


Unwritten

by UnrealRomance



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Abuse Mentions, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universes, And a Sub that needs lots of therapy, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, I'm basically just using Canon as a jumping off point so, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Light BDSM, Main Character experiences both abuse and battle, Nurturing Femdom, Pedophiles just straight up die, Rape Mentions, Rapists get killed or castrated, Rewrite of a rewrite of a rewrite of a rewrite, Romance, Slow Burn, So don't come into my comments and say there's too much, So yeah, Social Justice, Themes of BDSM, This story is basically all social justice one way or another, Violence, a lot of it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-26
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2019-06-16 12:03:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 49
Words: 83,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15436644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnrealRomance/pseuds/UnrealRomance
Summary: Nik's landed in a world she never should've existed in.But now that she's here...why not try and...change a few things?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I told ya'll it was coming. Those of you who are hopping over from Rewritten and Rewritten, Revised-- I told you I was writing it!

I'd cuss out whatever deity, power-that-be or mystical convergence of spheres that brought me here- only I can't remember exactly what it was and cursing at the universe in  _general_  is just asking for something  _nasty_ to happen.

I wouldn't have believed that before, but you know. I'd never been unceremoniously scooped out of my own reality and dropped into a new one, before.

"Ah! Shit, fuck, god damn it." I like cussing a lot when I'm confused or in pain.

It  _used_  to be a seldom occurrence.

Leaning on a tree, I inspect the bottom of my bare foot with a grimace. Yeah, that's gross. Not only did I just cut my foot on a sharp rock- it's not even the first time today. And if I don't find a place with medical supplies soon…I might get an infection and die.

Before that though, I'll be unable to walk anymore- which is why I'm basically jogging through the woods to begin with. Have to get where I'm going as fast as possible.

Except I have no idea where I'm going.

I mean, I know where I need to go, if I want to get help- I need to go someplace that has people.

But I'm in the middle of the fucking Storm Coast, so…

Yeah, the first clue I had was when I appeared here, and saw a dead Deepstalker. Then the entire area just…it just looks  _familiar_. The pebbly ground, interspersed with actual dirt- the plants…the trees…

The constant rain.

I was still in denial before I saw the Dragon, though.

It flew overhead just this morning, which is when I 'woke up' and felt all the pain I was in.

Up till then, I'd been wandering around in a daze, convinced I was dreaming. But the dragon, the dragon woke me up. I stopped dissociating and wished I hadn't.

Cause while, you know, this is the most amazing thing that  _has_ or  _will_ ever happen to me…it's also the most terrifying and painful.

It's not just my feet, but my legs and my back, too.

My feet are cut, my legs are tired and bruised from falling down so much- and my back just always hurts. It's a regular problem of mine. I was going to go to a chiropractor soon, but I guess  _that's_  off now…

Ugh, not to mention the hunger pains that have started now that it's evening and I haven't eaten anything because I don't trust the mushrooms here.

Deep Mushrooms make poison of some kind, and like…I'm not taking my chances that there's other mushrooms on the surface that people just don't normally use because they're less potent.

And all I've been able to find. Are. Mushrooms.

They're everywhere in this beautiful but terrible place.

If I had shoes on, it wouldn't be so terrible. I've always liked the rain, it…makes me feel this deep calm inside. But now it's just making everything slick and my hair feels weird and it's sticking to my skin- ugh.

Feeling exposed like this is also just…I don't like it, and never have. I've never been a nudist.

Walking around my tiny trailer without pants? With a sports bra and underwear on? Sure.

Going completely buck naked out in public? Hell no. Not even in front of my grandmother, mother or any of my other female relatives. I've never felt comfortable with that.

And now I've got my arms crossed over my boobs as I jog, holding them in place as much as hiding them.

Wait-

Wait, is that-

Hot fucking damn! It's a cabin.

Looks broken down and kind of reclaimed by nature but fuck- there might be a bed inside or old, dirty sheets I can wash and rip up for bandages and like…to use as a toga or something…

And it's shelter from the damn rain!

So I pick up the pace and ignore the twinges of discomfort from my feet and legs, just focused on putting one foot in front of the other and making sure I don't slip on or trip over anything.

I stumble once or twice and end up catching myself on trees, like I've been doing since my legs started to shake- around noon, I think? My forearms and hands are all fucked up. Abrasions, blood oozing from them…

If I don't find somewhere to tend my wounds soon and get shoes and clothes somehow…I'm fucked.

Ah! Level ground- actual dirt!

Stepping carefully across the overgrown 'yard', I keep my eyes peeled for wildlife and other possible dangers.

I want to just…curl up in a ball and sleep. But I can't, because I might not get back up again. I might…no. No, I won't lie down and wait to die, I won't waste my energy on things like crying, I won't give up. I can't.

Beating back the negative thoughts is always difficult when my situation is  _actually_  bleak and doesn't just look that way…but I can use the same techniques.

After an entire lifetime spent wishing I could go to another world, I'm not gonna let that dream-come-true, kill me. Not when I can do something with it instead. If that means I have to be extra exhausted all the time from fighting off my anxiety and depression, then so be it.

Just have to…find out  _when_  I am, to go with the  _where_.

I won't survive without a plan and when you plan…you should plan big  _and_  small.

So for now, I need medical attention and food and water. For later…I'll…need to think on that some more.

Do I try to change everything? And if so, how? Am I too late to change anything?

Do I leave everything as it was and just try to hang on for the ride and enjoy the world and characters? Do I watch as everything crumbles?

Nah. I'm no NPC, not anymore.

I used to stand by and do nothing while others did things for me, but recently I'd been able to get up and do things for myself. I felt so proud of that, too…

And now this. After years of struggle and self-improvement and just when I was getting to be at my best-

I can keep going. This is nothing. I can still be the best version of myself. I just have to…

Stopping in the doorway of the old, broken-down shack- I survey the entirety of the place in one sweep of my eyes back and forth across the large space inside.

The ceiling is mostly intact, though it drips here and there. Floor is water damaged but holding together…

And there's a chest, over there to the side, at the foot of a dry cot.

Someone lives here. Or at least hides away here.

I need to be done doing what I need to do before they get back, if they're coming.

Which means I'll be walking in the dark if I don't hurry- possibly all night long. Ugh.

Thinking about that reminds me of the big blank space in my memories. The hole, the…abyss. It's just…dark. There are fleeting bits of color and light but nothing makes sense to my brain.

Sighing, I hobble over to the cot and sit down, opening the chest at the foot of it pretty easily.

Here I was expecting it to be locked. Well, if it wasn't, that could mean there's nothing in it, or at least nothing of value.

' _Or maybe it's just owned by someone who has plenty of money to buy more stuff…_ ' I muse as I look down into the chest.

Medical supplies, more specifically an injury kit and poultice jar are just…sitting on top of a spare set of…light or medium armor, I can't tell in this low light.

And there in the other corner is a small sack, that when opened, reveals some jerky.

This is probably someone's post or something. I need to get dressed and get out of here…but if I don't tend my wounds, I might get infected and…and I'll bleed all over the inside of the armor.

Picking up the sack, the kit and the bundle of armor, I take each individually over to the doorway to inspect them.

There's a pair of boots down in the bottom of the chest, too, so I take those as well.

The armor and boots are worn-out and old. Someone's spare, I'd have to guess. I don't really care as long as it covers my ass.

Turning my attention to the injury kit, I find some linens that could be used for bandages…and groan. Because I'm going to have to use that damn sheet on the cot to clean myself off if I want the bandages for my wounds.

There's a bottle of some kind of alcohol on a desk when I inspect the cabin further and it just smells  _terrible_.

Using the sheet as a washcloth, I carefully clean my body of dirt and blood around my wounds and then brace myself.

Pouring that shit over my bleeding arms and legs is agonizing but at least I'm relatively certain I'll be better off with having done it.

"Nnngh, god…" I moan and catch my breath while wiping myself dry with the other end of the sheet. "Fucking gross…"

After pouring some poultice onto the bandages and winding them around my wounds, it soon becomes apparent that there's some kind of painkiller in them. Something to numb you, I guess.

And it's  _fantastic_.

I still feel the pain in my joints and everything aches, but it's much more manageable now.

Have to rip up the sheets and wind them around the bandages to hold them in place in order to have enough clean bandage to cover  _all_  my injuries.

Getting into the armor is hard when the light is dying but I manage to get the tunic, leather vest and pants on without much trouble.

I leave the boots for last and wind the scarf around my neck, pulling it up over my head like a hood and across my face like a mask.

It's better if I go unnoticed, but even if I am, no one will be able to describe my face or hair this way.

Bracing myself once again, I carefully step into the boots and hiss at the slight pain of fastening them up and walking around in them.

I can tell this set of armor was made for a man, or at least with one in mind, anyway. The bust is a little tight and it's difficult to move my arms without the shirt bunching in an uncomfortable way.

Time to move. No bag and the sheets are ruined so I have to carry the kit and the jerky.

Good thing this belt can hold both, and-

Hey, there's a potion in this pouch! It's half-drained, but still!

Pulling the potion out, I uncork it and take a small mouthful.

It's kind of gross in texture, but not that bad in flavor. I can choke it down pretty easily and quickly, at least. The aftertaste leaves much to be desired, but…at least I'm not dead.


	2. Chapter 2

Well…this is terrible.

"What have we here?" a Blade of Hessarian, circles around me. In armor that matches mine.

His is newer, better. I didn't even realize mine was Blade of Hessarian armor until I was woken up and saw theirs and mine in full sunlight.

"New blood?" the woman with him speculates. "Looks like your armor is fallin' apart. Where'd you get it?"

I was trying to walk as far from the cabin as I could. Even deep into the night- and then…I fell asleep against a tree. I was so exhausted and the potion I'd been drinking had run out so I was also in pain.

Still, it was thoughtless of me. I could've been attacked by a bear or a wolf or something!

Or these two could've just straight-up killed me.

"Some guy gave it to me," I say. "Told me I should join up. I was on my way to your base when I had to stop and rest." It seems a small group if they think I'm new just because they don't recognize me. Is it like in the game where there's only like a dozen of them or less?

"How long have you been walkin' then?" the man circles around the other side of me. "It's barely daylight, can't imagine you'd need rest if you started out this morning."

"I was trying to get here under cover of darkness mostly," I reply. "Can never be too careful with enemies all about."

I'm bullshitting so  _hard_  right now…I think Varric'd be proud.

"Too true," the woman laughs. "Welcome then, initiate. We'll escort you to the compound so you can get…properly outfitted."

"Is this not proper?" I ask. Feigning surprise is too easy for me. I hate how easy it is. "The man who gave the armor to me said that it would get me in the base and that someone would train me."

Don't stretch too far, just…just enough.

The man hums, "that's true, but the armor isn't meant to be used. It's beaten up, dirty- it's obvious he only meant you to have proof of your claim to a place among us. He couldn't possibly expect you to gallivant about in  _that_."

"Oh…well, alright then," I shrug. "I don't know much about fighting, though, I'll warn you. I was recruited for first aid skills."

"A surgeon?" the woman says; As the man says, "a healer?"

They're so in sync there, it's actually kinda funny. "I've got basic first aid skills, nothing fancy or involved…but I guess he thought you needed more medics?"

The woman inclines her head, "indeed we do. Our own was just…killed, recently. We're badly in need of a new one. Well. A doctor, a real one, but you'll do. For now."

Oh my god, what is even my luck right now? Probably more terrible than it seems.

Whoever this armor belonged to is probably going to be looking for it. Which means I might run into the guy I stole it from.

Maybe he doesn't know it's gone yet, but he will absolutely recognize it.

"Is everyone in the base at the moment, or are they out on their patrol routes?" They have those, right?

"Pff," the man huffs. "The base is basically dead unless we're eating, celebrating or transporting wounded for treatment."

Well that's…a relief, I guess? "Are there many of us?"

"Not too many at the moment," the woman sighs. "Oh damn, I forgot."

She pulls up to a stop and turns to me with a smile. "My name is Navette. This is Ben."

"Oh I'm…" I trail off and blank for a moment. "I'm Nik."

I don't want to use my real name but…well, for one thing- I can't just go blank for a whole minute wracking my brains for a name. Even that pause could've been suspicious.

And this is probably the only time I could get someone to call me by the name I like instead of the one they know.

"Good to meet you, Nik," Ben says with a smile. "It's always good to have new blood around…"

His expression darkens a bit but Navette takes over seamlessly, "so what was it that drew you to the Blades to begin with? How'd your benefactor find you?"

And it occurs to me…that this is perfect. "Oh he was bleeding from some wounds and I offered to patch him up." I reply. "It seemed like he'd already tried to treat them but they were…ah…not really that well looked after. He gave me the armor and told me where to go. Though his directions were rubbish, I think."

I could pull off an accent if I wanted to, but they'd notice that I suddenly had one. Damn, why didn't I think to-

No, this is good. I know more about Kirkwall than anywhere in Ferelden, I can just say that's where I'm from. And everyone will think I'm really authentic, even a native Kirkwaller, based on my accent and knowledge.

…so long as the things I know are true.

"So what are you hopin' to accomplish?" Ben asks. "You want to get rich? Or did you come for the lifestyle…?"

"I need to learn to fight," I answer. So relieved to be able to tell the truth. "I want to save lives and protect people. Blades do that, right?"

Navette and Ben both look away and nod, but their jaws are tight.

Their leader is making them into bandits and they don't like it.

Not at all.

So these two are good, then. Good people, good to befriend.

Now I just have to figure out which of the others are good and which are bad and…work around  _all_  of them.

"And I heard Blades travel some too, and I need to find someone to apprentice myself to, a healer or something," I go on. "I could probably find someone who could help out around the base if I'm given leave to look."

"Oh I'm sure the boss will send you with a whole squad if you've an inkling where a healer might be," Ben says. Still a little sullen in his bearing but sunny in his tone. "Do you know if one might be nearby?"

"Not as such, but I mean…we'll probably hear of one eventually, right?" I say. "There'll be people talking about them, people we trade with who have loose lips. Or who'll loosen their lips for coin, at least."

They look at me with surprise.

Navette tilts her head and opens her mouth, then closes it.

It's Ben who asks. "So you've got experience with…err, that sort of thing, then?"

"Not really," I respond. "I just know it's done and I'm…usually pretty good at reading people. I could probably figure out how to do it smoothly and make them believe I'm doing them a favor while talking them into accepting less than they'd get from someone else. That's the goal, right?"

"Aye, that is the goal," Navette replies. Smiling fondly in a way that's familiar.

Everyone is always so surprised when I'm worldly instead of innocent. It's my cute face that's the problem. And my usually kind disposition.

I say 'usually' because there are times when I'm too tired to put up a front of friendliness and social grace. Those days, everyone is convinced I must be sick.

Well I guess I am. Sick of their bullshit, anyway.

"Here we are!" Navette says.

And when I look up, because I was watching the ground to avoid tripping in my oversized boots-

I see the compound. Guarded by two people, archers, one on each side of the opening to the base.

"Navette, what've you got there?" the very muscular woman to the right calls out.

"New initiate, she's a medic!" Navette calls back as we approach. "Amateur, but better than nothing!"

The other guard is sighing at their antics.

They're such an eclectic bunch. Navette herself sounds vaguely Orlesian-Ferelden while Ben is undoubtedly just Ferelden.

The new guard sounds…Nevarran? Maybe? It's very subtle.

I'm mostly comparing their accents to the people I know so it's possible I'm completely wrong. Navette sounds a  _lot_  like a less-Orlesian Leliana, though. It's the lilt of her speech.

"Sorcha's cooking lunch," the vaguely Nevarran guard says with a grimace. "Stew again."

That makes me snort a little.

Everyone looks at me and why shouldn't they? "Sorry I…used to know someone who made terrible stew."

Remembering Alistair and his stew makes me remember the Blight and…the other characters around. I don't think this could be around the time of the Blight, but who knows.

"He says if  _we_  want to make lunch, we're welcome," Nevarran guard huffs. "But I don't have the patience to stand around and chop vegetables or whatever. And he knows it…"

Oh thank god, I'm just a little weird instead of suspicious.

Wait…

" _I_  could make lunch," I say. This is something I can do to make myself invaluable. If I can cook better than whoever is doing it now- they'll have twice as many reasons not to kill me when that other guy comes around looking for his armor. They'll pause and actually might buy my story. "I was taught how to cook and bake by my grandmother. And she was the best."

Ben chuckles and clasps my shoulder and tugs me along, "we'll see how that works out, then, won't we? Oh Sooorchaaa~"


	3. Chapter 3

As it turns out, Sorcha is a bad enemy to have.

All the food I've been given for meals has been…limited and kind of out there.

He even threw in some mushrooms that I wasn't sure how to prepare the afternoon after I'd arrived. I didn't want to risk poisoning anyone, so I put them away and grilled the vegetables and small strips of meat, chopping them up into pieces and making kebabs.

We had enough seasoning- I just had to go looking for it, as Sorcha neglected to instruct me on where they were or which ones were which.

Going by smell and taste, I was able to cook up some not-so-bad foods and he seems to have given up trying to sabotage me.

Still glares at me a lot, though.

My wounds have mostly healed up into scars- but they're very sensitive and moving the wrong way can make my leg throb or my body shake. Still, it's better than it was. And now that I've got a supply of potions, I can take a small sip whenever the pain gets to be too much. Not too much, though- the supply isn't that…plentiful.

In-between mealtimes, I've been able to keep my medic work to a bare minimum. Seems like these guys aren't going up against anyone they can't handle. Meaning it's probably a lot of innocent people dying, like merchants and maybe…

Gripping the book in my hands a little tightly, I breathe to calm myself.

At the moment I'm studying a manual that Navette was able to buy off a peddler for me. It has all manner of plants drawn in it- with information written on the adjacent page about them. Probably as accurate as it gets.

I hope.

I've finally managed to figure out that the mushrooms Sorcha gave me were actually non-toxic. They just taste terrible if you don't cook them in the right way. I was right not to roast them, they have to soak up the juices from meat like in a stew.

That was probably his attempt at getting me to make stew- he probably really thinks everyone just hates stew instead of just hating  _his_  stew. He's a scary kind of guy, I can imagine why they wouldn't want to piss him off, especially as he was in charge of their meals…

So many things in Thedas are different. The food, the animals…even the way you prepare dough with flour and yeast is a  _little_  different. Or so I discovered after my rolls came out just a tad bit  _too_  fluffy.

Everybody loved them, because they were soft and their biscuits are usually hard and rough, but like…I wasn't going for cotton candy consistency. And I'm pretty sure too much yeast can be bad for you? Or something?

I discovered where I am in the timeline, too. A few months before the Conclave. Which is both fortuitous and terrible. Because I'd need years to build up enough contacts to be useful to the Inquisition, I think. But also, at least it's not that far off?

Years until the Conclave could've meant the Blight. Or everything that happens in Kirkwall- and I would never have survived then. Especially not without help- and while the Warden and Hawke might be wonderful people-

They also might've been the Ruthless ones. That would've sucked. Especially with my interfering ass being around because if Hawke tried to out Anders, give Isabela to the Qunari- I'd find a way to kill him dead.

I just would.

Not to mention if the Warden were the type to kill Zev…

I can't even think about  _that_  without wanting to cry. Or Fenris getting handed over to Danarius- that makes me both sad  _and_  angry.

As it is now, I can gather information, formulate a plan of action and…

And what? What am I even planning on doing? Go to the Conclave, warn the Divine?

No, I'd just get thrown in the jail under Haven. Then Cassandra might have me executed in her grief, believing I was in on it.

So do I divert things without telling anyone? How? And if I do manage to divert everything, what happens after that?

Messing with timelines too much can really fuck up the future. And like…things I remember could be completely wrong. What if in this universe, the Divine isn't the sacrifice? What if it all goes to plan like how Solas wanted and he's able to scoop up the orb and tear down the Veil because I was off on a mission to stop something that would never happen in this world!?

God, I'm making myself tired with all this speculation.

"Oi, where's that fekkin…" Ugh. "Where's'at elf?"

' _The leader of the Hessarians, ladies and gentlemen. Gaze upon him and shudder with disgust.'_ God I hate him.

The only servant in camp is an Elven man. Sweet, kind-natured and mistreated by the leader and his…well, the people who like being bandits. Not many of them, but there's enough that they keep everyone else under their heel.

They tend to smack him around if he doesn't do what they want fast enough- but he's been pretty chipper since I've been here to help. Probably because we get things done so fast that Andras doesn't even notice anything being done most of the time anymore.

"Miles is cleaning the bedrooms at the moment," I reply from my place at one of the tables out in front of the barracks. "Something you were needing, sir?"

I resist every fiber of my being that screams at me to make that address as sarcastic as possible.

"M'room is filthy," he says petulantly. Which means he threw up in there again and is upset that it didn't immediately disappear. "You clean it!" he says and walks briskly away, stumbling a bit as his drunkeness asserts itself.

It's  _amazing_  that this guy can keep a hold on this gang as well as he does. But it's populated mostly with nice people who are afraid of him- and a few who are just happy they get to be disgustingly terrible with his permission.

The bad apples have taken over, like everywhere else.

As I watch the blonde axe-wielder stumble off toward the water troughs, I begin to think that maybe…

Maybe I  _do_  know what to do first.

It won't be easy and I might end up getting myself killed instead of actually fixing anything, but it beats sitting around doing nothing. I don't want to end up spiraling again.

First of all…I need to neutralize his secret weapons. Which means I have to either kill or befriend his hounds. The Mabari he sicks on the Inquisitor, in-game.

I've seen them being trained to attack targets- but other Mabari were trained that way and with their masters they were lovable and sweet.

So it _should_ be possible to get them to like me enough that they don't want to kill me. And I don't want to kill innocent animals, for any reason. To survive…I'd do it but I'd feel guilty for the rest of my life. There's a difference between hunting and killing for food and…doing that.

I probably wouldn't be able to turn them against him, but I could keep them from ripping my throat out and that'd be enough.

Closing the book and stowing it away in the pack I was given with my new armor that I have laid out on the table- I stand up. Slinging it on my back and fastening it so it doesn't jostle around, I walk into the barracks and call out for Miles.

He comes out of Jericho's room. "Yes, Serah?"

"His royal highness, the esteemed Andras, requests you clean his room." I reply. "And he told me to help you." Not quite the truth, not quite a lie. I mean, it's a lie, straight up, no bones about it.

But it's kinda true? God, I just want to never have to lie again.

Miles smiles widely, ears flicking a little and gestures back into Jericho's room, "just let me grab my supplies."

It's amazing to come to Thedas expecting Elves to basically be humans-with-pointed-ears and be totally completely wrong.

Miles's ears  _move_  for one. With his smiles, with his emotions- it's very cool. And also, his eyes- they're nothing like human eyes or the DA2 elf eyes. They are a little bigger and wider but not by a huge margin- the biggest difference is the colors in them.

He has very pretty blue eyes that have specks of green and a rim of brown around the pupil. I asked him about them and he said they're normal for Elf eyes, so…there's that.

The high cheekbones of the Elvhen aren't…present- but he's still got a more defined and pointy face than any of the humans. I dunno if that's an Elven trait or a Miles trait, though. Could also be because he's kind of skinny and malnourished.

I'd have to meet more Elves to find out.

He comes out of Jericho's room, walks past me out of the Barracks and I follow after him.

If you walk with confidence, nobody usually looks twice at you. So we make it inside the Boss's room on the other end of the compound without anyone calling out to us or asking us what we're doing. We're just a servant and an initiate.

I've been asked to help Miles before, so it shouldn't look strange. I'm the newbie and I've gotta seem as agreeable as possible just in case the actual owner of my armor finds me here.

My lessons with Ben and Jericho aren't until later, anyway.

I decided to learn the Bow and how to throw knives- as well as how to use a sword, though minimally. Ben is teaching me to use a particularly short sword- almost a dagger. It's very…small and light. It's a last resort when I can't use my knives or bow anymore.

I have to at least be able to hunt or  _something_  by the time I'm found out, in case they throw me out or try to kill me and I have to run.

I hid a pair of lockpicks in every one of the three prisoner cages just in case. I've since been taught to use them, albeit kind of ineptly so…

Probably should've hidden more than a pair each.

"Ugh," Miles groans and makes a face at the puddle of sick on the floor. "Get a bucket and some water, I'll get the mop."

And while he's scrubbing, I'll be surveying the room in between changing the water for his bucket. I need to know some things and the key to those things might be here.

If I could find out if Andras has a secret stash of wine, or…something else that might help me in my plans, whatever they might be in the future…


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for abuse and emotional reactions to said abuse.
> 
> (This story is still gonna be mostly fluff and triumph, I swear.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was gonna update yesterday and fuckin' forgot.
> 
> I'm trying to keep up with an update schedule but I need leeway, so I'm updating on weekends instead of a specific day so that when shit like this happens, I am still technically on schedule.

"There were mages getting off one of the ships?" I just can't stay silent anymore. This is huge.

"Headed to that Conclave," Navette says and flicks her wrist carelessly. "Asked around and they don't have anything. Boss said they'd be a waste of time so they're not a target. Gave the last of their coin to the captain for the trip, apparently."

That really makes me wanna smack myself in the forehead. What were they thinking!? How are they going to survive the whole journey to Haven? Without coin?

Miserably, if at all.

But this is good. If I wanted, I could travel right behind them and follow them all the way to Haven. Or hell, I could hire myself out as a mercenary to them and travel alongside- in return for enchantments or something.

They wouldn't have to know that I can't fight yet. But then what if we got attacked? Urgh. I don't want to deceive a bunch of mages in order to get ahead. I can't. It's just…gross.

And what would I even do once I got there? Tell the Divine that there are Gray Wardens being controlled by a sentient Darkspawn who wants to sacrifice her? Every eventuality I can think of where I warn someone, I can only see myself getting thrown in the dungeon.

"No, we're to go after the merchants who just got off the ships, instead," Ben says with a tight jaw. "Anyone want my route? I just want to stay in at the compound today."

"Afraid of the bodyguards, are you?" Jericho sneers. "More spoils for the rest of us to share, _I_  say."

"So you want it?" Ben asks. "Take it, then. And think what you like."

This is…a good opportunity.

Getting up from the table, I throw my plate into the sudsy bucket that Miles and I use to wash dishes. They're all some kind of metal or something- soft and pliable. Probably not Iron or anything else that could be used for armor materials- likely some other, 'lesser' metal.

Passing the tables by and walking into the barracks- I walk all the way to the end and into my room.

It's the same one the doctor before me was using and it still has some of his stuff lying around. Mine now, I guess.

Apparently he had a dispute with Andras while the axe-wielder was drunk and got killed for his lip. Then Andras blamed everyone  _else_  for not stopping the doctor from back-talking- the story was so fucked up I blocked half of it out and marked Andras down as 'needs to die as soon as possible'.

I already knew he had to die and someone else had to take over- I mean, that's the point of the Cleaning House quest in-game. But now I'm thinking I'm the one who needs to take him down. But for who?

 _I_  can't lead a band of mercenaries.

…

…but then, that's not what the Blades of Hessarian are  _supposed_  to be, is it? I wouldn't be able to keep a handle on them regardless, as they'd probably depose me the first chance they got.

Or at least, the people who like Andras would.

…hm.

And the rest? How would I even begin to convince-

A knock on the door interrupts my musing and my distracted search through my pack for my book of herbs.

When I open it up, Hermea is on the other side. The guard who was at the gates when I first came. The Nevarran. I haven't spoken much with her since I got here but she seems…okay.

"Andras wants to see you," she says with a grim face.

From what I've seen, Hermea is usually a smiling, joyous person. So this is  _not_  good.

"Is someone injured?" I ask.

"Someone's  _gonna_  be, I think," she replies. She's clenching her teeth. I don't like that.

And soon I'm being marched out of my room, one of Hermea's hands firmly holding my shoulder.

I just know this isn't going to go well.

We walk out of the barracks and people are lined up, waiting for us to pass through them.

I glance around, but Navette and Ben are nowhere to be seen. There's not many of us, so that either means they went somewhere or they're deliberately avoiding the proceedings.

Which is also a bad sign.

Not to mention that when we approach Andras' cabin, we can hear shouting.

Part of me wants to run, even though I know I'd never make it. But the rest of me whispers to stay calm and assess the situation even as my anxiety begins to make me shake and feel sick.

I haven't made  _many_  friends here, but I'm at least cordial with everyone. I don't stick out, I don't start fights and I bite my tongue when Andras is an asshole.

When we enter the cabin, I'm a little shocked to see both Ben and Navette there, fighting with another Hessarian. Arguing, rather. Not fighting. If they were fighting, someone'd be dead by now.

"Ahhh," Andras stands and the rest of the room goes quiet as he walks past them to get to me. "There's the troublemaker, now."

"Troublemake-" I get slapped across the face before I can even finish the word.

It stings and I'm sent to the floor with the blow, my ears ringing and my body going into panic-mode.

I have to physically restrain myself from using my legs to trip him and grab something sharp to start stabbing him with- it's a herculean effort that only  _I_  am aware of.

Because if I attack him, I don't have confidence that everyone in this room wouldn't immediately attack me in return. Or that he wouldn't just roll over and bash my head into the ground. Damn it. I hate feeling this powerless.

"Andras-" Navette lurches toward me but Ben holds her back. She  _could_  get hurt trying to defend me- if that's what she was doing. But it's really upsetting to see a man holding onto a woman like that, as if…as if he has some right to decide what she does. I hate it.

And I'm feeling so overly emotional, that that nearly sends me over the edge. I almost snarl at him. I hate it when I get like this! Any little thing can make me snap when I'm this riled up. But because I'm aware of that and what's causing it…it's a little easier to control.

"Now…little rat…" Andras bends down, squatting before my prone form as I hold my face and stare at him with wide eyes. "You want to try telling me how you came by your armor, again?"

I blink, trying to look as confused as possible. "I…I got it from a man-"

Another slap- but I can't change my story- he might  _kill_  me!

"Andras stop!" Navette shouts. "You won't get any answers from her if she's too injured to speak!"

"You be quiet," he turns and snaps at her. "I've 'ad about all I can take of your back-talk."

Ben pulls Navette further into his arms and covers her mouth, "be quiet, Navvy."

They're family. Literally. Ben is Navette's cousin and they ran away from home together while Navette's family was visiting Ben's- to find adventure. And then ended up here. Lots of fairy tales avoid showing this kind of ending but if they didn't, I bet a lot less people would do it.

The sight of him holding her  _and_  gagging her almost undoes me. I can feel my control fraying. The only thing that keeps it in place is the sting from my face being smacked twice and the pain in my body from falling to the floor so hard.

"So this is the vagrant that stole my spare armor?" a man steps into view and he's…

He's perfectly ordinary-looking, like most everyone here. But he's got an Orlesian accent, much thicker than Navette's.

"I didn't steal-" I lurch backwards when the hit comes for me and curl into a ball. "I didn't steal anything!"

Technically, I borrowed it, as he's probably got it back in his possession now.

I didn't expect him to kick me, but I should've. Usually when people try to avoid abuse, it only ends up in more intense abuse. And god, does it hurt…but I can't move.

Can't do anything, actually. Because if I do, I could die. I could be killed, right here, right now. So…

So what do I do?

"Andras," Hermea says softly. "There is another explanation."

"Oh and what's that?" he asks, standing to loom over her.

She swallows roughly and squares her jaw. "Some guy stole the armor, and then gave it to her to throw us off his trail. You said he stole potions and rations, too? If he was already in armor, he wouldn't have needed the spare…and it was so beaten up, it was useless to sell…" she goes on to say.

"So some thief stole the armor and then recruited for the Blades?" Andras laughs mockingly. "Why the  _fuck_  would he do that?"

I can think of a reason, but I can't say anything. I'd just make him notice me, make him angry. I don't want to get kicked again. It feels almost like I couldn't talk even if I  _wanted_  to. I hate that.

Navette elbows Ben until he releases her and she scoffs, "isn't it obvious? He sent her to us so we'd kill her and think the thief was already dead. So we wouldn't come  _looking_."

And there's dead silence in the room at that revelation.

I had a different reason, but hers is more plausible and less reliant on honorable-ness and morality. So I like it. I like it a lot.

"Whatever, just throw her in a cage," Andras says and flicks his wrist. "If we need her, we'll let her out."

And then he leans down to glare in my face from inches away and I can't move or he'll probably hit me again. He smells like ale, ugh. "You're on thin. Fuckin'. Ice. Girl."

I cough and clear my throat. "I understand. Sir."

The urge to be sarcastic is fought down, once again. And it's just so  _apt_. He doesn't deserve to be addressed with any respect. He's a lowlife piece of shit who needs to die.

I'm resolved in this course of action even more than I was before.

Before, it was a hazy dream- something to prepare for but not really think about doing. I wasn't serious- I was more…planning for every eventuality and circumstance.

And now I'm glad I've been feeding the dogs my leftover meat at every meal and helping Durago when he takes them out for exercise.

I'm glad I've become at least pleasant acquaintances with Ben and Navette and other decent people in the camp.

I'm  _glad_  I ripped out the pages in that herbal book of poisonous mushrooms and hid them where they wouldn't be found so I could use them.

Now all I have to do is pick my moment- and make more friends.

As Hermea escorts me out of the cabin on wobbling legs, I shake my head and crack my neck. Waiting for the door to close behind us and for us to get a fair distance away…

"I don't blame you," I say, quietly.

"What did you say?" she stops to turn me with a firm hand on my arm.

"I said I don't blame you, for thinking I was a traitor," I reply. I look earnestly up into her eyes and then down away from her gaze. "I've been betrayed by friends before…so I understand."

Her lips purse and she continues marching me to the jail cells- if they can be called that. What did he call them? The cages?

Yeah, that's basically what they are. Hay lines the floor and if you know how itchy and scratchy and just plain uncomfortable it is- you know it's not a kindness. And since I grew up on farms, playing in hay- I know all too well.

They put it here so you won't freeze to death, but they don't give a fig about your comfort.

"Inside," she says as she opens the door.

And since I can't do anything else…I walk into it. "Do you think Andras will feed me or am I supposed to die in here?" I ask.

She shuts the door and gives me a strange look for my frankness.

I shrug, "just wanna know my odds of actually surviving this."

She stares at her hands on the door to the cage, "I don't know." And then she turns and walks away. Leaving me alone.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Actually updated when I meant to, this time...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ANNOUNCEMENT:  
> I finished the prologue for my interactive romance novel, Aetherial Identity.
> 
> The link's at the bottom!

Being imprisoned is boring.

Other than the hygiene, cold and possible starvation issues, that's all it is. Straight-up boredom.

I'm just sitting here, trying to come up with ideas, all day.

Not many of the people here get hurt that often, so they don't really need me. They can just slap poultice on their wounds themselves.

It's daybreak on the morning after I've been thrown in here and I'm already  _so_  hungry. But I have to ignore it and think. I won't be this coherent for long. As hunger begins to gnaw away at me- not to mention thirst -I'll lose more and more of my lucidity.

So what do I do? How do I get people to come over here and bond with me, since I'm not getting out? They can all play games with each other, so that's out. Can't offer to play a game if I'm not bringing anything to the table that they can't just run off with after I teach them about it.

Ugh…

Leaning back against the far wall of my cell, I lace my fingers over my abdomen and escape into my mind. Running through imaginary scenarios and escape routes as I hum quietly to myself.

Use the lock picks hidden in the hay to get out while everyone's sleeping?

No. There are night guards who'd catch me because I'd have to leave out the front gate. Everywhere else is too high and I'm a shit climber so I couldn't even get on top of a cabin to get over the damn wall.

Wait for a slow day and sneak out of camp when the gate guards aren't looking?

Nah, even when she's drunk, Hermea has fantastic aim with her axe and if Ben's on guard duty he might look the other way…but he also might not.

He might realize I lied and shoot me in the back for putting him and Navette in danger and like…

...okay. Fair. I did.

They're nice people, good and kind. Even if Ben's sexist, I think if I explained to him why it's terrible what he does…he might stop.

He also might wave me off, tell me I'm making something out of nothing, but hell. Everyone always does. Doesn't mean he'd deserve the treatment Andras heaps on him and everyone else…

I just need to get people to like me enough so that when I suggest that Andras, Jericho and a few others who delight in the carnage need to die…

…they'll agree with me.

How the fuck do I do that?

"What song is that you're hummin'?"

I jolt and my eyes shoot open. To see Navette standing in front of my cage with Ben anxiously hovering behind her.

"Huh?" It takes a second to understand what she just asked. Sometimes words are like that with me. "Oh. It's a song that I heard a bard sing once…from their personal collection," I say.

And it's not a lie, so much as an obfuscation. But like…how else would I even say it? What else would they understand?

"What are the words?" Navette asks.

"What you, want me to sing it?" I ask, skeptically. People usually never ask me to sing unless they've already heard me sing once. And then it's usually just because there's silence that needs filling up…

"It's nice to learn new songs every once in a while…and it sounded pretty…" she says.

"Navvy…" Ben mutters.

It tweaks me that he manhandled her yesterday and that he seems to think he can haul her around and do whatever he likes under the guise of concern for her. And also that she seems to think it's just fine because from what I've seen, she hasn't ignored him or pushed him away for what he did- or what he's constantly doing all the time, I _should_  say.

And maybe it's just the way they've been raised and maybe he might be different if he knew better- but…that's not really an excuse. He doesn't get a pass for his possible future actions. And his now-actions are pissing me off a lot, lately.

So I smile, "sure. I can do that."

Oooohhhh, I know how to swing this!

"Just keep in mind that this is an experimental song they were working on, and it's meant to be from Andraste's point of view- she sings of Maferath and the Maker." This is heresy, but they don't have to know that.

Navette's eyes get big and she leans in close to listen while Ben glances around and stands like he's guarding.

At least he's not dragging her off, but…

I'm still pissed.

"According to you…I'm stupid. I'm useless. I can't do anything right~"

That got their attention right off the bat.

"According to  _you,_ I'm difficult, hard to please, forever changing my mind~"

Navette is engrossed already and Ben is glancing over his shoulder at me, dubiously.

"I'm a mess in a dress- can't show up on time. Even if it would save my life~"

Standing up, I sing strong, from my diaphragm. Cause I just figured out what I can use to get them all to come to me.

I sing through the entire song with Navette staring at me, wide-eyed and Ben slowly but reluctantly turning around to listen. Both of them sway a little like they're trying not to like it but can't help themselves.

And by the time I've finished, there's a few other people wandering near us, to hear.

When Navette asks me to sing it again, I ask for water. And something to eat.

They bring it to me.

It's just…incredible. Baffling. That something so small could be so appreciated and so missed that they'd basically ignore that Andras might be miffed and just…do it.

Then I remember that they probably haven't had a bard around…ever? Maybe just in a long while? And music is…it's a unifying human- sentient being- experience. Connecting through song is just…what we do.

So maybe it's not that strange after all.

After they get me some food and water to snarf and guzzle down- I repeat the song. Twice.

At that point I have to ask for more water because my throat is irritated. It's been a long time since I've sung this much.

"Wha's goin' on out 'ere!" Andras is drunk again.

It's not like he's an alcoholic- he just 'celebrates' when his men bring in a big haul.

Forgets to invite everyone else to the party, and then walks around in a drunken swagger so everyone knows what's up. It's a status thing.

I think.

"Nothin' sir…just singin' round the campfire," one of the blades replies. "You need help gettin' back to your Cabin, sir?"

"I can walk back to m' own damn cabin…" he grumbles and gripes as he turns and stumbles off back toward said cabin.

There's silence until he manages to fall inside his doorway and shut it behind him. And then I'm getting requests to sing again.

It's draining and my throat hurts, but I promise them one more time before I'll have to stop- so I can sing to them the next night before bed too, and not lose my voice completely.

After that's finished…I'm wrung-out, but I'm full and hydrated and I feel accomplished.

I found a way to get them to need me, even from a prison cell. And if people need something from you, they're more likely to do things for you.

Ugh, I hate knowing this. I hate knowing how to do this and…the fact that I'm doing it.

But if it's this or die…I choose this.

Getting to sleep after all that is actually pretty easy. I normally have insomnia back home on earth, but since I got here and there's always something to do and always someone asking me to do it…

Everything's just better.

Executive dysfunction makes it so I can't do things on my own or if I can, it's only at certain times when my motivation and energy are both peaked.

Otherwise, I have to have someone tell me what to do. Which, you know, I hate- but so long as it's someone who is  _supposed_  to be telling me what to do. Someone I  _asked_  to tell me what to do, it doesn't usually chafe me.

I mentally had to give permission to like twenty people just so I wouldn't get locked up and frozen and get yelled at for being obstinate. I really do  _not_  want that shit starting up.

Kinda moot now, that I'm in a cage. That's actually kind of a relief…

No more chores- though poor Miles is going to have to do it all himself again, now.

Haven't seen him since I got tossed in here. Wonder if he'll come tomorrow to hear the songs.

Eh, if he doesn't, it's probably because he's afraid of getting in trouble for being seen near me and he's the one the most in danger of that.

"Psst," a soft voice from the front of my cage.

When I lift my head and see the barest outline of a very thin body on the other side, I sigh. "Miles."

"Shh," he hushes me quietly. "I have the keys."

That makes me stand and walk over to the door.

I think he's surprised when I reach through and stop his hands before he can unlock it. "No, Miles."

"What?" I can her the incredulity in his quiet voice. "Why not?"

"Because you're an elf and they'll be harder on you than they were on me, and they…beat me up a little, it was unpleasant. And they weren't even sure if I'd  _done_  anything," I say. "Also because the only way out for me is the front gate and it's guarded."

"I can boost you up on top of a cabin and over the wall," he says. But I can feel him drooping.

"Miles…" I reach up and eventually grasp his shoulder, squeezing lightly. So damn hard to see in the dark out here. "You're a brave person and I appreciate the thought, but you should put those back before anyone catches you with them. I still intend to stay if I can and since I know I've done nothing wrong…I have faith it'll work out okay."

I have plans. So many plans. But he doesn't- and can't -know that.

…can he?

He sighs, "alright."

I release his hands and he puts the keys into his pocket, I think. Can't really see more than his silhouette and even that's…shaky.

"I'm going to start bringing you food, though," he says. "No arguments."

"Not arguing," I say with a grin. "Just don't get caught."

He huffs and turns to slip off into the night, muttering to himself.

Okay, so, food source aside from people who want me to sing- acquired!

God I hope it all keeps going this well. But knowing me I'll somehow find a way to fuck it up. Guess I'll just have to watch and see.

' _Just don't try to be too clever. Let things progress naturally and don't stick your nose in every bit of business that goes around. Be aware but don't interfere…not unless it can help you_.'

That's going to be…something.

Lying back down in the straw and trying to ignore the smells and the cold and everything else that's terrible, I just…curl up and close my eyes. Hoping that tomorrow will be a brighter day and maybe that I'll be better at whatever it is I'm doing by then.

I know how to ingratiate myself to people, it's something all people like me learn, from a young age. How to be small, quiet and unassuming. How to charm people when it's necessary to keep them from being mad at you…

…but I'm scared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> http://philome.la/UnrealRomances/aetherial-identity


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apparently I CAN keep to a schedule under certain circumstances...
> 
> Happy Saturday Binches!

I don't know who did it or how it happened, but Jericho was brought back with a massive wound in his chest.

At the moment I'm practicing what to say when he inevitably dies.

Even doing my absolute damnedest, I am not a surgeon or a healer…

But I  _do_  know where to find some.

And that is how I ended up asking Navette and Ben to run and hire a healer from among the mages that got off that ship to heal him for us.

The most  _I_  can do is close up the wound with a  _lot_  of poultice packed into it and get him to drink some potion.

I'd normally, just let him die. He's an asshole and thinks it's funny to trip Miles and whistle and catcall at the girls in camp. I don't want to even think about his female opponents, because if I do, I really will just let him die. But this is the first time I've been out of my cage since I got tossed into it and I have to be better than good. If he dies, Andras might assume I let him die on purpose and kill me.

And…it's started happening again.

Every once in a while, I'll get an urge that isn't mine.

This used to happen when we lived on the farm and the animals were making strange noises or behaving erratically and somehow I just knew what it meant.

It also happened in the city when I'd encounter a bit of graffiti or a specific building and get the urge to caress it or go inside or something.

The dead are trying to talk to me again.

Yeah it's not as dramatic and exciting as Tv shows and movies make it out to be. Most of the time it's just them syncing up with me somehow in some way and…showing me how and when to do things. Telling me with a gut feeling what's going on and how to alleviate the situation if it's…undesirable.

I used to make 'predictions' when I was a kid.

Always knew when my father was going to come and see me- he and my mother were divorced, but he'd come visit and pick me up for stuff a lot through my childhood, even though he lived in another state.

Apparently I even predicted a time when my grandfather ended up somehow in prison and nobody else knew where he was- but since I was so young, I said it pretty cryptically and no one knew what I was talking about until later on.

Then there's the incident where one of my toys started working without batteries in it and all the times mom got fucked with by the dead and it only ended after I told them to knock it off.

Yeah my life has always been flavored with odd. Not enough to really seem magical or real, though. At least, not to me.

After all, what if it was all circumstance, coincidence, or…what if we just imagined it? People can make up the most amazing things in their heads- in their  _memories_  to make themselves feel less bored and dissatisfied with life.

I mostly call it 'communing with the dead' for that purpose, after all.

I'm pretty sure it's just my thin slicing picking up on things I wouldn't consciously notice, but…eh. More fun to think of dead people trying to communicate with me.

Sometimes I get a good tip, like- 'time to change the bandages' will tug at my gut or 'another potion couldn't hurt' will pull my hands to the tiny bottles on the shelf- of which we don't really have many.

They're not really words, just sensations and urges, so I don't normally call it 'talking' but, you know. Other people probably would, regardless.

How do you describe something that's just been part of your life since before you can remember?

"How long ago did they leave?" I keep asking Miles.

He answers, patiently, "about three hours ago."

And I begin pacing again.

"You know, I don't understand you," Miles says.

I give him a warning look and glance at Jericho on the table. I know what he's talking about, or at least, I think I do- and we don't know if he can still hear us.

He holds up his hands and gestures with his head toward my office which is on the other side of the barracks. I'm right across the hall from the clinic so I have places to stash equipment, get away from the patients who are sleeping so I don't disturb them-

It's a setup that makes sense and I'm guessing the last guy was the one to set it up that way.

Since I can't really do anything  _but_  pace and he's mostly stable for now, I shrug and follow him as he leads the way into my office.

Closing the door behind me, I lean back against it and sigh. "What don't you understand?"

"I offered you a way out," he says and sits on the edge of my bed. "But you were more concerned with what would happen to me if I got caught…and you seem to be really…" he gestures helplessly. "…good at figuring out how to do things in…strange ways that nobody ever thinks of."

"I don't- what are you talking about?" I ask with a quirked eyebrow.

He scoffs, "mages? You really think anyone here would've thought to hire a healer from among a bunch of rebel mages?"

"That's just prejudice, not-" I flick my fingers and huff, "I'm not any more innovative than the rest of you guys, you just let your worldview be tainted by other people's opinions and your culture and…I've been learning how not, to do that. I'm sure I still fail sometimes."

"Point is, you're more practiced at whatever it is that is, than we are." He seems confused, but he's not arguing with me over the whole 'naturally better at stuff' thing so I'll take it. "I have no doubt you could've thought of something, to escape."

"I could've, but then…you'd still be here, with Andras," I reply.

His ears flick back a bit and he tilts his head, "what, you got so attached to a bunch of mercenaries and their pet elf that you just-"

"Don't do that," I fall a little into the door. "Don't put yourself down just to express disbelief like you're the only part of this that doesn't make sense."

"As far as I've ever known, no human puts their ass on the line for an elf," he says.

"I know," I reply. "But if I told you I already knew you all were here and I came specifically to liberate everyone from Andras- and that I  _did_  steal that armor…what would you say?"

It would be true if I'd had any time to orient myself or figure things out. I would've done it, just because I felt it needed to be done.

A bit disingenuous to imply that I  _am_  doing that and have been from the beginning but…haven't I been planning this since I got here? Even if I told myself I could never do it?

Isn't it actually more true than anything I've said since I got here?

No. And lying to myself won't make it so. It won't make me not a liar. But there has to be a reason I'm here, and if this will get me his help, it's necessary.

Miles stares at me for several long moments and then asks… "Why? Why would you do that, why come here, for us?"

And the implied message in his tone is 'why save a bunch of worthless mercenaries who've done nothing but pillage, steal and kill people, who are we to you, to anyone?'.

"Because the Blades of Hessarian used to  _be_  something, and they  _can_  be, again." I say. "But I need help, because I can't…I can't get rid of Andras on my own, and I can't do it honorably. But if he and his men aren't killed- I can't save the rest of you."

"What-what are you talking about, do it honorably?" he stands up and gestures with his hands. "Are you talking about  _challenging_  Andras? To a fight? Are you  _insane_?"

"Yes, clinically," I deadpan with an unamused look on my face. "But this is about taking down Andras in a one-on-one fight so that he can't command his followers in battle against us if we were to fight him head-on."

He opens his mouth, then closes it while rubbing his face with his hands. "What would you need?" he asks, through gritted teeth.

Obviously in disbelief that he's even asking.

"Firstly, we need to find a slow-acting poison I can feed him the morning before I challenge him. So that by the time we're suited up and fighting, it'll be already working and slowing him down. And he needs to be drunk, if possible. Even just from two or three tankards- the more intoxicated he is, the better."

"Poisoned  _and_  drunk…" he mutters to himself. "And you'll still probably get killed."

"Not if I use a dagger coated with a fast-acting poison to finish him off on the first cut- then it's just a matter of avoiding his attacks till he goes down," I reply.

"You've really thought this out, hey?" he says and sighs. "I can help you with the food and drink and adding the poison to it but I don't know where you'd get some."

I shrug and smile, "that's…kind of the second reason I sent for a mage healer. They're bound to be good with herbalism- and if not they might just have some on hand from someone who is…so…"

He's staring at me with a sort of…strange expression. "You've planned every step of this and no one can see it from the outside. That's mad."

"That's good planning," I retort with a grin.

I think these little bits of casual ableism are gonna drive me up the wall, soon. If only because I can't give anyone the stink eye over it.


	7. Chapter 7

The healer who comes back with the others is…

Tied up.

"Why is he tied up?" I ask, a slow curl of guilt and regret and a hot flame of rage settling in my gut. It's like a heavy coal set on fire in there.

"Andras told us not to take any chances," Ben says with a face that looks like it wants to grimace but can't.

Andras seems to have sent two of his most loyal men with them and they're the ones with the mage between them.

He lifts his head and I see he's an elf, with bouncy red-brown hair. He seems to be calm, but there's a storm brewing in his hazel eyes.

"Well fine, untie him so I can take him into the-"

"'f we untie him, he's gonna get away," the left man states. I think his name was…L-something…or maybe E-l- something…

"If you  _don't_  untie him, he can't work his magic," I reply. "I will take personal responsibility for him, I promise you that. I'm already on thin ice, I don't think he's going anywhere with me watching him."

God, I hate this.

They slowly unwind his bonds and I can see his body tensing slowly, probably in preparation for some kind of attack. I wonder if they used something to capture him- why hasn't he used his magic yet?

I bend over to get close in his face and stare into his eyes, muttering under my breath, "attacking the whole camp now would just end up with you dead, you should save your energy."

His eyes narrow, but when he's freed, he doesn't do anything, so I guess he listened to me?

We walk into the barracks and as soon as he's in the room with Jericho, I close the door and fall to my knees.

"I'm  _so_  sorry," I rest my head on my forearms on the floor and try to control my self-loathing. It's not productive, it'll just put me down and I might not get back up. "I told them to  _hire_  a healer, not steal one- Andras-"

"Why are you on the floor?" he looks so puzzled and kind of embarrassed when I look up.

"I'm apologizing," I reply. "I mean, I guess I don't  _need_ to be on the floor but I  _feel_  pretty low."

His head dips and his shoulders spike upward as he snorts and tries to control the laughter that escapes him.

"I'll just…get up, now." I say and stand up, smiling at him when I'm on my feet again. "If you can help me save this man and maybe…with something else…I can help you get out of here."

The laughter dries up and he stares at me very seriously. "Even if I get injured, I _could_  fight my way out of here."

"And do what?" I gesture behind me. "Lead them back to the mages again where everyone will get into a big fight and kill each other? Half the people here don't even want to be doing this. You'd be dooming both sides. Even if the mages came out on top, there'd be significant casualties."

His brows scrunch, "what would you suggest?"

As though he knew I would have a suggestion and he just can't  _wait_  to hear it.

"...I…" I look at Jericho and gesture at him, then tug on my ear.

The mage lifts his hand and drifts it over Jericho, who sighs deeply in his sleep. "He won't wake until I want him to. Now, what?"

"I've been planning to kill the man in charge here," I reply.

He seems a little surprised by my sudden seriousness. "To what end?"

"These are the  _Blades of Hessarian_ ," I say and gesture around us. "They're meant to be a force of mercy and justice in the world, and they've been reduced to mercenaries because of  _Andras_." Turning around, I open the door and peek my head out, seeing a couple blades guarding the entrance to the barracks.

I slip easily back inside before they can see me and give the mage a very direct look. "I wanted to save them all from him, and…and maybe get them into doing what they should've been doing all along. Helping people. But I can't do it without help- and I need more than one thing from more than one person. So I figured, once they'd hired you, I could buy something off you that I needed. But since you're captured, I'll figure you want out as badly as I want to free everyone else here."

He sighs through his nose and crosses his arms, "and that's the only way out, isn't it? To be released? Otherwise the rest will attack me on sight and I might not get away?" His questioning tone implies that he thinks this is what I'm trying to tell him.

"No," I do hate to be predictable, but he's actually wrong. "I could sneak you out or you could break out on your own and you'd probably be fine. Fine enough, anyway. As you're a healer, you'd likely have a better chance than anyone."

He's watching me with intense curiosity, now. "But?"

"But I'm hoping you'll stay to help me and all the people here who just want the banditry to  _stop_ ," I reply. "I'll help you leave, either way. I just need two different kinds of poison before you go and my plans will go on without you…but if you stay and help…"

And now for the second part of my incredibly long, convoluted-as-fuck plan.

"I'll join you and the other mages with the men left over here and we'll protect you on your way to Haven." I put my fist over my heart. "I'd promise either way, but who knows if I'd actually be able to pull this off without you or find you guys afterwards- or if we'd even be welcome then without you in tow. So…that's my offer."

He stares at the fist over my heart for a few moments and then turns to Jericho with a sigh. "It's not like I've got much else to do, is it?"

I grin so hard I think my face might split in two. "Thank you! Oh. I forgot to ask your name."

He turns to look at me, one edge of his mouth pulling up slightly. "It's Ren."

"Also," I step over to his side and stop when he begins to tense up. "There's another elf here, Miles. He knows about this plan, but no one else does. He's my…other help."

He quirks a brow at me. "Trusting all the elves and none of the humans. That's…curious."

"The humans are dead ass afraid of Andras," I shrug. "And they're…not the type you trust with things like this, anyway. Not yet, at least."

"Hoping to change that?" he says as light glows on the underside of his palms and begins to encompass Jericho's limp frame.

"Hoping to make them want to change it themselves," I reply. "How is he doing? He's an ass but if he dies, I'm dead. Also probably dead soon enough anyway."

He blinks and looks at me with wide eyes, "what do you mean?"

"Now that they've got you, Andras is going to want to get rid of me. I'm only hoping everyone else kicks up enough of a fuss to get him to back down without making him angry." It makes sense. He's a real, knowledgeable healer.

I'm just the stand-in. Who is under suspicion of theft and deception. Betrayal.

"What are you going to do if he decides to get rid of you anyway?" he asks.

"Well that depends how he plans to do so. If he just wants me gone and throws me out, I can sneak back in, get my friends and you, and leave. If they want to come…" I mutter that last part uncertainly. "If he wants to kill me…then it'll depend on when and how. If he wants me killed on the spot, I'll have to challenge him then and there just to survive."

"Challenge him?" he asks.

"You have to challenge the leader of the Blades to combat if you want to kill him and take over leadership without getting killed by everyone afterwards," I reply. "Hence all the help I've been needing."

"I see…" he trails off and stares down at Jericho. "And what do you want with the Blades once you've won them?" he asks.

"I'll let them decide what they want to do next," I say. "I just don't want Andras bullying them all anymore. Any that want to come with me and travel with you and the rest of the mages, will. Anyone that wants to leave, will finally be able to."

"Well, I don't know what to do other than play along at the moment," he says. His eyes cutting to me and piercing me with their stark suspicion. "But if I suspect you're throwing me to the wolves or lying to me, I  _will_  try to escape on my own, consequences be damned. I will not be caged here."

'… _wolves…_ '

"I'd imagine you'd rather die," I respond.

He looks at me straight-on, the light in his hands dying away as he finishes whatever he was doing. "I would indeed."


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> warnings for mentions of gore and violence in this chapter. She's telling one of our...bloodier fairy tales.
> 
> It doesn't get too graphic, but I figured I should warn you.
> 
> Also the violence is very minimal, but also, figured I should warn you.

I still make the meals around camp, and everyone is glad for it.

Andras had to let me out after Jericho got injured, but was talked into letting me  _stay_  out, when Sorcha began cooking the meals again…so I'm guessing he made stew…

Or something worse, though I can't fathom what that might be.

Which means I  _do_  have access to Andras' food…but he's got his men watching me when I'm not in the clinic, so…I really do need Miles to slip the poison in when the time comes. And the time is coming soon, because Andras is getting antsy and wants to expand their territory.

He's gone completely stone-cold sober for the time being, so I might have to wait till their first push out into the wilds before he'll come back and drink himself sick in celebration.

Why can't I just kill him in his sleep again? Oh, right. I might get caught and then have to be hung by his loyalists and no one will help me because they'd have to fight them.

I'm feeling incredibly cranky just thinking about it.

"Something wrong?" Hermea is being somber at me usually if she speaks to me at all. Now is no different.

It's so weird to see her turn cold after being so warm and open with the others- I can see them from afar, usually. Laughing and joking around until I walk over and she clams up.

"I wish we had better spices," I stir the stew- because that's all I could make with what Sorcha gave me and I felt like being petty in my incredibly bad mood. Prove I can make better stew than him any day of the week…or something like that, anyway. "More varieties of meat. Different vegetables…I could do so much with so little but it's…only so much."

She hums and dumps the chopped vegetables into the pot one bowl at a time. "This is all we have. Best to get used to it. Unless we get some kind of windfall, it's all we'll have for the foreseeable future."

"It's too bad we're tethered down to one place," I say. Musingly. "If we could travel the countryside and just have a bunch of different bases to bed down in-"

"Andras isn't likely to do anything like that any time soon," she interrupts while aggressively skinning some carrots into the pot. "He's more of the homebody type."

"Hm," so Hermea isn't happy with Andras either, really. Good to know.

"Anyway…you were singing the other night," she says. Segueing into a topic I hadn't expected. "What was that song?"

"You'll have to be more specific," I reply. I've been singing every night for the past…I dunno, three days? And I've mixed it up some in there.

"You were singing about a place called…" is she blushing? "Wonderland?"

"Oh!" That Natalia Kills song. "It's a song about the yearning and simultaneous rejection of the fairytale romance. The fairytales are from my home, very local." How the hell do you explain your fairytales coming from a whole bunch of different countries, all of which technically don't exist?

Jesus.

"Would you tell us the…fairytales at the fire tonight?" she asks.

And since it's the only thing she's ever asked of me, I scramble to agree.

It only takes about…say…an hour, to get everyone together, bowls put in their hands and settle them down in front of the fire.

I tell them all the story of snow white, first. Seeing as that's one of the fairytales in the song that Hermea asked me about and it has dwarves in it, which seems more like normalcy to them than fantasy.

Changing a few things on the fly, I tell the story of Snow like it's never been told before. Or at least like I've never heard it before.

A young girl named Snow White lives with her abusive stepmother who is obsessed with her own beauty and jealous of Snow's youth. The queen wants to gain eternal youth by eating the hearts of young women like Snow and when Snow finds out what she's been doing, she runs away to find help.

The Queen enlists the captain of the guard to find her a mercenary, disguising her sinister plans. She tells the captain that she wants a mercenary because she believes someone stole Snow away and a mercenary would likely be the type to be able to find her in the seedy underbelly of the kingdom below.

So he brought her a huntsman who also takes bounty contracts. He's horrified when the Queen instructs him to preserve the girl's heart in a jar, but doesn't show it on his face. He accepts the contract to buy time and finds Snow.

He's realized that the Queen is behind the deaths of all the peasant girls in the village, found with their hearts cut out of their bodies. So now his mission is to protect Snow while she builds an uprising against her mother and spreads the word that she's been eating the hearts of the young and beautiful.

"Why does the Queen believe eating their hearts will work?" Navette is skeptical. "That's not how magic works, is it? And is she even a mage?"

"In some version of the tales she has magic, but in others, she's just…" I flick my wrist. "Suffering from a delusion of sorts. Though that's not what made her evil. People have harmless and harmful delusions both but still manage not to act on them most of the time, back where I'm from. There _are_ a few people who don't get help and end up doing so anyway, but...oh! We had a historical figure a while back ago who would bathe in the blood of young girls, believing it would give her youth and beauty." I shrug. "Some people become so obsessed with eternal life and they do…terrible things. Even if it doesn't work, they keep trying, just in case it eventually will...it's terrible."

Miles is sitting at the fire, looking distinctly disgusted, like he's lost his appetite.

Hermea sits forward with gleaming eyes, "tell the rest. Everybody stop interrupting!"

So I do. And by the time Andras comes out of his cabin with a swagger, dinner is done.

I should've known from the look on his face that I wasn't going to like what came next.

It's all kind of fuzzy after a certain point. Andras hit me in the head before I could react, and then it was a bunch of shouting and arguments and moving, shifting bodies, pulling and pushing me and…

And then I was on my own healers cot, with Ren pale above me, muttering to himself in…was it Elvhen?

I think I may have babbled that question at him, and tried to analyze the words, which is why he looked so surprised- though that may be that I was even cognizant enough to speak at all.

There's a stretch of time that was all darkness, then. And I didn't know what was happening or who was around me, but when I woke up-

When I woke up, there was Ren, and Miles. Hermea was also there, standing off the side of my bed, looking fraught as she paced.

Navette and Ben were leaning against each other on the floor, sleeping.

There are several others just kinda standing around in the doorway and probably out in the hall.

I'm so confused by it all, I just close my eyes and go back to sleep.

' _I'm not making sense of this shit right now. I can deal in the morning._ '

And so I do.

And the next time I wake, the very  _moment_  I wake up, Miles is there, looking soft and sorrowful with something burning in his eyes. "Hey. Can you hear me? Do you understand me?"

It's a lot easier than it was before, when it felt like there were cottonballs in my ears…when Ren was muttering in Elvhen that felt so...far away.

I remember it distinctly, but not with any clarity. Ugh.

Making a face, I flick my wrist, "what happened?"

"You were right," Ren mutters as he walks around Miles, checking me over with his magic-

Though the most curious thing happens.

I scream.

And I'm not even sure why until the magic goes away and I blink away the tears and dancing lights in my eyes- seeing both Ren and Miles staring at me. Hands up, eyes wide, ears flicked back.

The magic felt…it felt like it was like…his hands…in my insides. "Don't…do that again, please. At least not while I'm conscious."

"I didn't know you had a fear of magical healing," Ren's brow is furrowed. "It's going to be hard to get you better in any kind of time without it."

"Andras wanted to kill you last night," Miles cuts in. Looking a little frantic in his eyes. "I've already begun giving him small doses of the poison Ren gave me, but it might take a few days for the buildup to have any effect if I don't-"

"What, why?" I blink and sit up, then fall back down. I'm so weak. "Ugh. Why did you start-"

"Because he's calling for your execution. Your public execution- in front of everyone. We were able to stop him from beating you to death-" Ren's ears go rigid and flex as he works his jaw. "But he only relented long enough to say he was going to hang you as soon as you could stand on your own two feet."

A bucket of ice water sluices down my spine, waking me the rest of the way up. "I can't yet, so we've got time. How impatient is he?"

"He asked after your status, but when I told him you were still unconscious, he lost interest. He's been pal-ing around with his loyalists while everyone else has been worried over you." Miles sighs. "It's going to be obvious soon that this divide he created is a threat to his power and he'll probably march in here with a sword to get it over with already at some point. But for now…"

"Spike his drinks, every one," I groan and sit up. Forcing myself backward and lean against the headboard. I'm shaking, but I'm upright. "If you think you'll get caught, let that one go. But anytime he wants you to fetch him one, drop in one of the pellets."

I asked Ren specifically to make them easily dissolved pellets, so that we wouldn't have to carry around vials or anything. For this first part, he just has to get sick enough to be slow. But he's a merc, so he's probably got some kinda resistance to poisons.

"I have been, just…slowly," he replies. "I'll keep going, and when he's sick enough…you'll challenge him?"

"You're not in any condition to be challenging anybody," Ren asserts. "Maybe in a few days, but-"

"It'll take a few days to get him sick enough she might actually win, anyway," Miles mutters, cutting him off.

"Put me out." I stare into Ren's startled eyes when he looks at me. "If the stipulation is that I have to be up on my feet, then put me out for two days- and for a day or so after you wake me up, I can make a show of being too weak to walk."

"What about what just happened?" He asks. "You screamed when I tried to use magic."

"Yeah well, it felt like you were juggling my organs," I reply. "But if you just knock me out in a quick burst- I mean you've been healing me up till now, right? So you can focus all your energy on healing my body while Andras is being weakened. And if you wouldn't mind finding me a crossbow and a dagger and coating them both with the fast acting poison so they'll be dried and ready to use when I face him…that'd be great."

Ren and Miles exchange a look.

And then I…don't remember anymore, because everything just kind of went black at that point.


	9. Ren POV, Miles POV

"You can't be serious," Ben says. "Andras will kill us all."

"Oh shut  _up_ , Ben!" Navette snaps. "I'd rather die than go another day living like this. You promised me the Blades were honorable and that we would be helping people, and if you'll recall- I wanted to run away that first night when we were ordered to rob merchants on their way through and  _you_  convinced me not to. They killed a whole family, Ben! A mother, a father, two grown sons-"

"He would've just hunted us  _down,_ Navvy!" Ben exclaims. "And I'll beg your pardon for protecting myself and my family before everyone else!"

This is all giving me a headache.

"Run away if you want, nobody cares," Miles deadpans. "Andras wouldn't devote resources to that, you're just spineless."

"Sp-" Ben stands from the circle we were sitting in to discuss things. "How dare-"

"Well he's not fuckin' wrong, is he!?" Navette exclaims. Also standing up.

Hermea stands and plants a hand on both of their shoulders, firmly shoving until they're both sitting on the floor again. "Both of you  _hush_. I want to hear the rest of this!"

They settle into sullen silence.

It's been my experience that no one will stick their neck out for those who are different, unless they've got something to gain. But it's ALSO been my experience that people will band together for the right leader under the right cause if you just give them the slightest push.

They'll band together for the wrong people and wrong reasons too. So I just have to be convincing.

"She needed a way into the compound, so she stole the armor from a nearby cabin where she knew a blade had been spending a lot of time," I lie.

She hasn't told me any of this, but I can guess from what Miles has told me that the real story would likely not impress any of them, or get them to follow her.

"Why would she go to all that trouble?" Navette asks. "Don't misunderstand, I'm grateful for the thought and all, but why put herself in danger like that?"

"She's a bleeding heart," Miles says. Rolling his eyes, he goes on, "I tried to help her escape and she refused because I might be caught and punished for it."

That was interesting to hear about, once I'd put her under.

Andras has gone off on a job with his loyalists, so we didn't need to guard her, but…

Looking over at the bed where she sleeps, I slump back into the wall behind me. "She offered the Blades to be protectors for the mages if I could help her pull this off. She wanted to get you all out of here and away from this place if she could defeat Andras."

"She said-" Hermea begins and then cuts herself off. "She looked right at me and said she didn't blame me for believing she'd betrayed us."

"Well she didn't, exactly, did she?" Navette muse. "She betrayed Andras. But we hate that arse. If she really came here to get rid of him and save us from him, then there was no betrayal to begin with."

Hermea stews in that revelation while Ben works himself up until he can finally speak again.

"I won't do it, I refuse-" his eyes are too wide and his lips are trembling.

"Then go, Ben," Navette snaps. "Run away and leave us to deal with him."

His mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water. "You…you won't come with me? Why not!?"

"He made us do  _horrible_  things Ben, all because I was afraid to die and afraid to leave you." Her eyes narrow. "I will not make those mistakes ever again. If I have to die to redeem myself, so be it. But I am through attacking families and the poor as they travel along the road."

Ben looks down at his lap and I wonder if Miles and I will have to do something about him.

But then he lifts his head, eyes glittering with tears. "I go where you go, Navvy."

"Don't put that on me, Ben," she snaps. "Make a decision for yourself, not for me. You can't blame it on me if it all goes south or you end up regretting it."

His jaw works but he nods. "I will help."

"Hermea?" Miles gestures at the sullen axe wielder. "You don't have to stay afterwards, we're just making sure we aren't all killed once Andras goes down. That's all."

She inhales through her nose, sharply. "I intend to leave as soon as this is over, but I will fight if it comes to that."

Good enough answer, I suppose.

"So what do we do about the rest of them?" Navette asks. "The loyalists? Shouldn't we…put at least some of them out of commission too?"

"Well…" Ben says slowly. "Sorcha is…one of his loyalists, is he not?"

"Yes, and?" I don't see where he's going with this, though I've only known anyone here for…a grand total of a week now, I think? And I don't speak often with the sullen cook.

"We'll have to get past him, but…if we poison the night's meal enough the night before she wakes up, we can pass it off as food poisoning. The rest of us will simply not eat, but we'll appear to. It'll just look like we managed to get the good parts of the food." Ben says. Softly, anxiously.

He isn't certain about this, but he is trying his best to be useful.

"Miles can't do it, nobody would believe he'd be that careless," Navette asserts. "One of us has to cook and drop the poison in so they assume it's just our inexperience or somethin'."

"There's Sorcha to deal with," Miles replies. Then gets a thoughtful look on his face. "Or…we could use him for further cover."

"What are you thinking?" I ask. "Don't keep it to yourself, unless you have to."

He shakes his head and waves me off, laughing. "Well, Ben…if you  _really_  want to be useful…"

* * *

 

Miles POV

One small vial of sleeping potion that could put a Druffalo out for a full day is probably a bit too powerful to use on a bunch of Mabari. But Ren assured me that one small drop would suffice in each of their water bowls.

The morning before we wake her, I'm to put the mabari out- just in case Andras wants them to join him in the fight.

I don't know why she's so certain he'll try to use them, but then- Andras is a contemptible bastard. It's likely he'll try to break the rules, one way or another.

That's likely why she decided to start poisoning him to begin with. I think if he could be trusted to do the honorable thing and fight head on…well, we likely wouldn't be enacting a coup to begin with, would we?

So cheating a cheater before he can even think about it…

That woman is a bit terrifying. And sort of adorable. That's…confusing.

You want to wrap her up in blankets and set her somewhere safe but you're also afraid if you try, she might slip a knife between your ribs. Or at least, I am. I wasn't. Before.

When I tried to help her escape, she just seemed…normal. Sort of small and soft and too innocent for the Blades. Now I realize she was the leader we were waiting for. Well. Not we. They.

I haven't been allowed to learn any sort of combat skill. I've tried training on my own after watching them, and I know enough to be starting with…but I'm nowhere near any level of competency.

All my life I lived in an alienage and when I finally got out- I wanted to join up with a mercenary company. Learn to fight, earn money. Maybe send some to my family. But it's more complicated than that, here. With the Blades.

I'm not paid so much as I'm simply fed and sheltered and protected in exchange for services. Which is fine, but I asked before if I could learn to use a sword and Andras laughed in my face.

(" _What's a scrawny little knife-ear like you gonna do with a sword, hey? Besides, Blades have always been human. S'not gonna change anytime soon."_ )

So I killed my dreams of becoming a mercenary and kept up with what little training I'd been able to glean…hoping for… _something_.

Never occurred to me that I could just…do all this on my own.

That I could poison the people whose food I handle, sow dissent against them among their allies, both willing and otherwise-  _fight_  them without a sword.

I feel…good. Powerful. Free.

Like I never have before, not even when I left the alienage so long ago.

So whether she terrifies me or not, I'm grateful to her. For coming here, for doing what she is. Even if that wasn't originally the plan, and something tells me it isn't, no matter what she implied…

I'm glad she came.

"Miles, d'you mind grabbing that?" Navette huffs from nearby.

I have to turn around to see what she's pointing at.

Seems she's misjudged a throw and now one of her knives is sitting atop one of the roofs.

"No problem," I trot over to the targets and grasp some footholds in the siding. Scaling my way up, I pluck the knife from its inconvenient position and climb down.

"Thanks, Miles," Navette says. Smiling so pretty, like she always does when I do her a favor. "I could never climb things like you."

"I think you could if you wanted to learn," I reply. "It isn't really all that complicated, to be honest. You just practice and eventually it becomes second nature."

"Maybe that's only true for Elves," she says with a grimace. "Cause trust me, I tried a few times and I was equally horrible with every single attempt."

I laugh. "You can't just quit. You have to be dedicated to learning it, like anything else. Even big clunky brutes like you Humans can manage it if you can keep on it."

She snorts back at me, "Oi I'm more graceful than a damn swan."

"You are the picture of elegance, of course," I deadpan. And receive a smack to the arm for my trouble.

I don't fall for Navette's pretty smiles anymore, but it's always nice to have friends. No matter how shallowly the bonds may run.

I don't think anyone likes being totally alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's so many things different about this version that I am both anticipating and dreading your reactions to them in equal measure.


	10. Nik POV, Miles POV

Okay. So today's the day.

Ren's done all he can with my body, and I'm…at at least ninety-percent. If not ninety-five.

I still feel kinda funny, but Andras is chomping at the bit to have me executed now that I've been woken up, and they can barely hold him off long enough to give me the Mercy's Crest I had them craft while I was unconscious.

They have to strap the crossbow and daggers onto my body for me as I slowly wake from my magic slumber.

Ren tried to use a dispel, but it just kinda made things worse in a different way.

"I don't understand, it's like your body's never encountered magic before!" He huffs as he hands me a stamina potion to hopefully wake me the fuck up. "Even farm hands have contact with magic occasionally. It's part of nature. Wherever you live, the Veil must be very thick."

"Yeah probably," I mutter a little bitterly. Everyone in other universes get like, magic and science advancement to a ridiculous degree and we got…Earth. Our Earth. No magic, no sci-fi advances in medical technology or robotics…

This is a weird feeling, being so high on magic that I'm cranky about it.

I take about half the amount Ren recommended because my tolerance for any kind of medicine is  _low_  as fuck- and feel instantly better.

Energized, even.

' _It'd be incredibly easy for me to become dependent on these…_ ' I cork the vial and shove it into the pouch on my belt. I've always been kind of paranoid that I would end up hooked on something. My family is full of alcoholics and drug abusers.

Some of them chill….others, not so chill.

Miles pokes his head in through the door. "You need to come out soon or Andras is going to have you dragged out and that…would not look good for you."

Sighing, I tuck the Crest into my belt and walk to the door…before pausing and turning to look back at Ren. "Is there any magic you could work without anyone noticing?"

Ren tilts his head and says, "I could heal your injuries…or put a barrier over you. But the Barrier would be noticed."

"Wait until I need it, then and only healing magic, nothing else." Taking a deep breath, I walk out of the room with Miles before me and Ren behind me.

I'm probably gonna die here. I mean, I have no skill whatsoever. The little bits of things I learned in the time before my theft was found out…well, it's not nearly enough to defeat someone like Andras. Which is why the poison on everything.

But even with that, I might have a hard time with him. I mean, I more than likely will.

Especially as we come out of the barracks to see him posturing for his men, looking none the worse for wear. But then, poison has a very subtle effect if you want it to.

I didn't want the effect to be too noticeable because it would probably put him in bed if I got too overzealous. And I wanted him functional.

Functional enough to put on a good show and lose in a fight.

Could've probably just poisoned him and his men to death, as it is a bunch of them are out there looking sick but determined to see my head roll anyway.

But I think the others want to see what I'm made of. Either that or it just didn't occur to them, or they thought it'd be too dishonorable to do. Any which way you slice it, it doesn't really matter.

This is my job, and I'm going to do it. I wouldn't have asked them to do all the work for me even if I'd thought of it earlier. After all…if you can't do a job yourself, and you ask someone else, it should be because you're incapable of that task…not because you just don't wanna do it.

It took me a long time to grow into the knowledge that asking for help is okay and even longer to learn the nuances of when it's appropriate.

I disliked how some people in my family would make me do things because they didn't want to, not because they couldn't- even things that were  _their_  responsibility. I was a small child and could be manipulated and used however they liked.

And as I was an especially  _obedient_  and  _quiet_  child…they could get away with quite a bit more than the norm. I can still remember being grounded from TV and carefully looking away from the living room TV any time I passed through because I was a 'good girl' who minded her punishments.

God, I hate remembering that.

"Well!" Andras has his axe out. "There's the little thief now. I see you gave her some weapons, eh? Up for a little blood sport, are ya?" He grins at me.

He's obviously assuming they gave me the equipment because I'm going to request some kind of fight to the death. For my honor.

That's actually a  _thing_.

"A bit yes, but not for the purpose you think," I step forward into the open circle- an empty space in which Andras and I can stand, staring at each other. "I challenge you for control of the Blades."

Andras laughs, "oh you do?" He swings his axe a little, and shakes his head. "Do yah have the Crest?"

He asks it so smugly that I feel some vindication when I reach down and tap the Crest on my belt and Andras reacts with surprise.

"Who gave that to her!?" He looks around the crowd and his eyes land on Miles and Ren. Who were just outfitting me. Of course.

"I made it before this even happened!" I snap. Drawing his attention back to me.

If I die today, I'm not taking anyone down with me but Andras.

* * *

 

Miles POV

I don't know how she thinks she's capable of this. Andras is going to toy with her until she's too tired to move and then go in for the kill once it stops being fun.

I've seen him do the same with his sparring partners, all of whom he doesn't see as a serious threat to him, either.

Though, judging from the way she watches him and darts out of his grasp at the last moment when he makes a grab for her or swipes at her with his axe…she's just waiting for the opportunity to cut him. Just once.

The poison that Ren made reacts with the other poison we've been feeding Andras. It should…damn it, I remember what he said, but not the exact words.

It'll make all the poison in his system up till now suddenly act like it's ten times more poison than it was. Basically. I think.

I've a head for numbers, not herbs and poisons.

"You goin' to attack at any point?" Andras taunts. "Or you just gonna bide your time and hope I get bored enough to let you go?"

"If I'm gonna die either way, I'd rather die fighting for power than because people think I'm a thief," she says.

Completely convincingly.

She is shockingly good at lying. If I hadn't heard from her personally what her motivations were and that she actually did steal that armor, I would've bought that.

Andras certainly does.

"Ha! Well then come on and put on a good show for my men!" He leaps toward her and everything happens very quickly.

Andras is apparently done playing.

My throat tightens and Ren, Navette, Ben and I all tense as he pounces and swings his axe.

We're all standing next to each other and the stark divide of us vs them is shocking to see illustrated in front of my very eyes, to say the least.

Nik is agile and quick, even a little flexible- but Andras has experience, age  _and_  strength that she does not.

It's over faster than any of us could've imagined.

She's lying on the ground, with Andras's hand on her throat, staring up at him as he draws back his axe.

Ren shifts, moving forward, but stops when she begins to spit out words.

"I'm  _shocked_  that you don't want to choke the life from my body and watch my eyes go dark," she says. "People like you always seem to enjoy that kind of thing."

What is she doing?

And then I see her other hand clutching at one of the daggers, the point dug just barely into the back of his thigh. He doesn't even seem to have noticed it!

Andras grins and puts down his axe and I realize with some nausea that she was intending to give him  _ideas_  and stall for time.

It takes longer to choke someone to death than to put an axe through their skull.

Her look of shock and fear is very convincing- but I know that had to have been deliberate. She had us coat those daggers so thickly that I'm sure that poison is in his system, a lot of it- and it must be just about ready to spring the reaction.

But she needed time for that reaction to occur. So she grasped at anything to stall for time that she could.

And now Andras is holding her down by the throat and staring gleefully into her eyes and I think- the entire time, that she's going to  _let_  him choke her half to death before the poison can even kick in-

But then one of her feet is planted in his abdomen and she shoves him up and off of her.

' _Oh thank the Maker. She was pulling a trick._ ' The relief I can feel in every bone and muscle in my body is overwhelming in its magnitude.

For as long as we've been acquainted, she's been…more than kind to me.

She didn't have to help me clean up or offer to cook for us or talk me out of helping her escape. She didn't have to sing to us or tell us that we deserved better and then fight for us.

Nik doesn't have to do or be anything that she is, but she is and does. And that is a bit suspicious, to be quite frank.

Part of me is still waiting to find out that she lied to us all as well as to Andras and his men. To find out that she came here to take over and make us do even more horrid, degrading things than Andras would ask us to do.

But most of me remembers the moments when she'd hold out an arm to help me up after tripping and falling over my own feet. Or when she'd offer to do something for me because I was too short to reach without overextending myself. And the times when she would secret away a bit of extra dinner for me because I'm 'malnourished'.

That woman is sneaky and a lying schemer but…I don't believe for one moment it's for any nefarious purpose.

She gasps for air as Andras flounders, finally feeling the effects of the poison and clawing at the ground as he attempts to get his bearings.

And that is when I am utterly shocked, because I never knew she had it in her to leap upon a man and shove a dagger up through his head from underneath his chin.

It's such a swift, smooth movement, that I almost miss it entirely.

Thankfully she doesn't yank the blade back out, and from this angle all I can see is the hilt protruding from under his chin, and that is upsetting enough without-

"Ren-" she croaks. "He-…healing, please?"

' _Maker, the pain she must be in_.'

The utter silence around us, prompts me to look around.

Andras's men, the few who attended today's bout- are staring at her in complete shock.

None of them know of the poison or the plans she made for this fight. To them it seems a completely inexperienced rookie just killed a seasoned veteran after a lucky hit to the gut and also after almost having her throat crushed.

And that's when it hits me.

' _She did it. We're free._ '


	11. Hermea POV, Nik POV

I make my move, once she's down.

The Elven healer attends to her and Miles rushes to her side with Navette and Ben like the loyal dogs they are.

But I stand before Andras's men and those of the Blades Miles and the Healer hadn't turned to their cause and I speak.

"Blades! Hear me!" I say. With as much conviction as I can put into my voice. "This woman is not qualified to lead you!"

"Hermea!" I can hear Navette and a struggle behind me, but I do not turn to look. Ben will have her in hand- he can never resist the urge to throw himself between her and danger. And if he fails, I also have an axe and Navette is an amateur.

"She has tricked and cheated her way into this win today, but you have yet another option!" I raise my fist. "I never believed this woman's lies! I uncovered her plot- but alas, too late to stop this."

I wanted to be free of Andras, but I will not bind myself to someone else in his stead. If there is to be a leader, let it be me.

"Follow me, and we will restore the glory of the blades!" I shout and throw my fist higher. "Follow me and we will become what we were meant to be without Andras's toxic influence or the lies of a leader we cannot trust."

There is a hush as the Blades look to each other and at their newly blooded leader- deciding between tradition and common sense.

"A dishonorable victory is no victory at all!" I remind them.

"You despicable bi-" Navette is silenced but there was no scuffle.

I glance behind me, and see that the lying traitor is sitting up, holding onto Navette's leg. Just a touch, to pause her.

She lifts her head and smiles in a tired, vacant fashion. "You can have the camp…Herm..ea…we were…leaving…anyway. Just…let them come…if they want to, please. Or…let them…go home?"

Every word spoken from her lips is a struggle, and the mage appears to be a bit shocked she is even speaking to begin with.

Blinking heavily, smiling, speaking with effort, she strikes me as being particularly small. Smaller than I've ever thought her before.

"I have no reason to keep them against their will," I reply. "All who wish to follow a competent and honest leader, you will stay with me! Everyone else may go where their whims take them. I care not."

"Honest my arse," Navette mutters and glares at me.

"S'okay, s'okay," the traitor pats Navette's leg. "We need…find the mages…"

Her blinking is becoming heavier and as we watch- she falls asleep against the Healer, slumping into his hold.

"She's right," Miles says. Shaking his head, he throws me a volatile look that I have never seen on his face before. "We can find the mages and make our way with them. They will likely be happy to receive an escort to Haven."

"So?" Navette turns to the Blades. "This woman just risked life and limb for your dumb arses to kill the man holding you captive. I know at least three or four of you personally who wanted to go home to your wives. And more of you who wished the Blades could be more than they were. So those of you who want to uphold what the Blade of Mercy is truly meant for- come with us. Gather your things and meet us outside the camp."

She turns to me then. "That alright with you, you backstabbing joke?"

I incline my head. "I do not wish to be at odds with you Navette. But I will not follow a liar and a cheat."

A bark of a laugh escapes her as she steps a bit closer and lowers her voice. "You and I both know you're no better. You let her get rid of Andras for you and then you threw her to the wolves. Well fuck you. She was more honest with all of us than you were- even if she did lie, I trust it was for a good reason. You? This is obviously just about you needing to grasp the power before someone else could."

Navette looks at me with eyes filled with rage and I cannot contradict her.

She is wrong, but she will not listen to reason.

The traitor understood, even in her stupor. There is no point in fighting over these scraps. Everyone is free to do as they like, now. And so we will.

_I_  will. And I will never be chained under someone else's authority again.

"C'mon Navvy," Ben is sporting what looks to be the beginnings of a black eye. I wonder when she managed that. Probably when I first began to speak. "Let's just get our things and go."

She glares at him as well, but moves around the lot of them toward the barracks. "All of you, get her out of here before that traitorous swine decides to kill her. I'll get all our things and meet you outside with the others."

There is not a significant amount of Blades leaves, but it is enough to pause me when I notice them.

I knew most of us were dissatisfied with Andras, but I had no idea so many simply wished to go home or were so beholden to tradition they would follow an obviously inexperienced and unqualified leader…

Navette disappears into the barracks with at least five men behind her- while the Healer and Miles support the unconscious girl between them and Ben nervously follows after them, glancing back at the Barracks as if he wishes to run to Navette's side.

"I'll not harm anyone leaving this camp. I just want this all over with," I say to them, crossing my arms. "Just don't come back, or I can't keep that promise."

"Why?" Ben asks. "She would've let us go our separate ways anyway, so why even do this?"

"Because I didn't  _trust_  that, Ben, and neither should you," I respond. "You're all so quick to put your faith into a woman who lied and stole and cheated. You should think about that."

"What else should she have done, Hermea?" Miles is looking at me in a way I am…uncomfortable with.

It is far more pointed and careless than any expression he has ever had on his face before.

"Should she have left us at Andras's mercy?" he asks. "Fought fairly and died without accomplishing anything? Come to camp without any claim to our ranks and possibly been harmed or executed by Andras who was a suspicious man on the best of days?"

They only pause long enough for Miles to deliver that with his unnerving expression and then they are moving on toward the gates again.

' _Fighting honorably means being honest and fighting fairly. I let her kill Andras because Andras was a thorn in my side, not because I wished to allow her the power she sought. And I could not have stopped this. Not without bloodshed. Not a single word I spoke was a lie. I care not what they think._ '

Still, as Navette leaves with a bare handful and a half of men, some of them already going on their way, most of them staying to follow behind her- and I see the hatred for me in her eyes…I feel no regret, but I do feel melancholy at the loss of what I once considered to be a great friendship.

* * *

 

Nik POV

The next time I open my eyes, I'm a little surprised that it's to the inside of a tent and not the interior of one of the cabins that I've been sleeping in for the past two weeks.

It takes me a couple minutes of hazily blinking at the world around me to even realize I'm  _in_  a tent but when I do, I shoot up into a sitting position and try to take stock of whatever I can comprehend before anyone comes to check on me.

And I know they will eventually because  _I_  didn't set up this tent. I don't even know how to do that. Modern day tents are different than these ones. You use wires and pipes, not poles made of wood tied to the cloth walls with actual rope.

What reasons could there be for me being in a tent instead of in camp? Am I not badly injured anymore?

Cracking my neck and then every other joint I have in my body, I take stock of the fact that nothing is throbbing or feels achy and sore anymore.

Checking my torso for the bruises I would assume were there from the way Andras pummeled me before- I'm a little surprised to see no evidence of them.

I'm super fucking tired, but I'm not all banged up. I'm sure most people would absolutely take that trade-off. But I feel like I did back in my depression fugue when I wanted to sleep forever.

I  _hate_  that feeling.

So I carefully maneuver out of the blankets and crawl on top of them- on my knees, keeping myself upright mostly by sheer force of will.

Don't know how long I sit there on my knees before my brain clears up a little, but it's long enough for someone to walk into the tent and startle me. I think I startled them too, because they jerk to a stop as soon as they see me.

I realize after a moment of us staring at each other, that it's Miles.

"You're up!" he says with relief and excitement mingling in his tone. "How do you feel?"

"How long have I been out?" I cough, clear my throat, and ask my second question. "And where's Ren?"

"Two days, just about," he says with a grimace. "I wanted to wake you sooner, but Ren insisted you had to heal completely first. That you'd wake on your own. I guess he was right."

It's so hard to focus on the words he's saying and his face and really anything besides being a creature made up of primordial ooze forced to gain corporeal form.

Ugh. I feel like I took one of those pain pills the dentist gives you after surgery and most of the loopy has worn off but now you've got cotton in your brain.

"Say that again?" I missed the second thing he said. About where Ren is. Which was an important question.

' _Focus, brain!_ '

"Ren went off to find some Elfroot and maybe some other herbs in the area. He told us to wait here for him." Miles walks over to sit across from me on the bedroll, also on his knees, staring at me intently.

I get the feeling he's maybe waiting for something or…

"You alright, Miles?" I rasp and _again_  have to clear my throat.

"You killed Andras," he says.

And like a lightning bolt, it hits me that  _that_  is exactly what I did.

"I…killed…Andras," I say. This time having trouble articulating the facts instead of working through the lingering huskiness in my throat.

I will probably never regret that Andras is dead and can't hurt anyone anymore, but I've never killed anyone before in my life. The only fights I ever really got in were with bullies on the playground when I was protecting my friends and that never went past me chasing after them and them running away.

And  _that_  was in elementary school.

That moment is so fuzzy but I remember the utter  _rage_  that filled me when I'd finally gotten him off me. When I saw he was finally open for attack.

I always suppress my anger because when it overwhelms me…I don't want to get it under control. It feels… _good_. And that's…terrifying.

And I know that's incredibly unhealthy, but I've  _tried_  to control it and let it out constructively and  _nothing works_.

"Don't pass out again," Miles has a hand on my shoulder when I blink myself back into the moment. Staring intently like he expects me to pitch over at any second and he's prepared to catch my ass before my head hits the floor.

"I'm just…still exhausted, but…I hate this feeling. I know I should sleep…" tears are springing to my eyes.

And to my great shock, Miles  _hugs_  me. And it's a shock because to my knowledge, Miles is not a big hugger.

"You can rest. We are watching," he says softly. "Sleep, milady. And we will find the Mages in the morning."

"MAKER SAVE US!" a shriek from outside pulls us apart and startles me to some alertness.

"Miles, where's my stamina potion?" I grasp his arm as he goes to leave and he pauses, pointing to the corner where my armor and weapons from the fight with Andras are sitting, arranged.

I release him and crawl for the belt as he leaves the tent to assess the situation.

It's not difficult to find, but trying to get my hands to grip it with any strength is a bitch- and eventually I just have to gnaw until my teeth catch on the cork so I can yank it out by squeezing the belt around it to hold it still.

I hate being sick. I know this is different, probably due to my body healing but I'm still weakened and I still hate it.

Gulping down a full mouthfull of the stuff and then leaving the vial standing up in the nest of leather that is the belt, I stagger outside the tent.

The screaming had mysteriously started and then stopped and once I step outside, I see why.

There's a green mist covering everything and even Miles is just a few steps away, wheezing on his hands and knees.

Moving as quickly as I can, I rush to grab him, holding my breath and drag him back into my tent with extreme effort.

The tent is unaffected and I wonder why until I see the sigils in the dirt outside when I peek out again.

' _Ren set up a barrier? Is this mist magical, then? It works on physical attacks but a gas bomb shouldn't set it off, should it?_ ' Damn it, I don't know.

I do know this tent is safe, though, and there's at least seven people in camp at the moment who are collapsed or collapsing.

"Everyone here!" I shout at the few that are still kind of moving. "To my tent! Now!"

Three people stagger and crawl toward me, the promise of safety or at least- a direction to go in.

The rest are all on the ground, unresponsive.

So I take a deep breath, and run for them.


	12. Ren POV, Miles POV

I was almost too late.

"Nik…" I run my magic over her insensate body one more time. "Take the healing magic, damn you."

"Is she going to be alright?" Serah Trevelyan has been hovering ever since she called off the attack.

She's a powerful entropy mage. And while I'm touched that she tried to attack the Blades over me- she attacked the wrong ones.

"I don't know, Serah," I respond. "She apparently ran into your mist at least five consecutive times to pull people out of it and ended up taking a lot of damage as a result. I can barely get her body to accept the healing- it's like it soaked up all the entropy magic and now it doesn't have room for anything else."

"I've never heard of anything like that happening before," she says. Worrying her hands in a knot in her lap.

And if she hasn't heard of it, that's…alarming. She was all set to become the next Grand Enchanter when the old one retired before the Circles fell. She would've been one of the best educated mages in the entirety of her Circle.

I know there are always strange things you can't explain about magic but…this…

"Don't you dare die on us now," I order her as I shove magic into her body- trying to displace the toxic entropic energy. "Miles is going to be- Navette is so angry- None of them can move well yet, so it's not like she could've actually-"

I'm not sure what I'm even saying anymore or why this is even so important to me.

All I know is I've never had a human bow to me with her face to the floor in my entire life. And if you'd asked me before meeting her if that would ever happen, I would've laughed in your face unless threat of force was involved.

It's the whole reason I decided to hear her out to begin with. I was so shocked I just.

I just stood there and then it was just so  _absurd_. I-

I like this girl. I respect her. She didn't even have to do much, in hindsight. It was all in the way she talked, about how she'd kill Andras and get everyone out from under his thumb. Like there was never a doubt that she'd manage it.

Did she ever doubt it for a single moment? I want to know that. I want to know what she was thinking while this was all going on and I can't know if I don't ask. And I can't ask if she's  _dead_.

She inhales sharply and her heart beats wildly- so I have to stop. I have to pull back and wait for her body to adjust to all the magic. I have to wait for it to force the entropic energy out naturally. Doing any more will overtax her body too much.

If I try to help her any further right now, I'll kill her.

Breathing deeply, I stand from my place beside her on the floor of the tent and wave to Serah Trevelyan to follow me. "Let's leave her for a few hours. I'll keep checking in on her but rest will be good for her body."

I have to jump in at every chance to shove that poison out of her system but too much at once will be dangerous. I'm not going to be sleeping tonight, am I?

She's damn lucky the wards I put up and the barrier I erected around them weren't effected by all her movement. It was supposed to protect  _her_  so in truth she's the only one who could've gone out and come back in like that.

Anyone else would've been trapped on the outside.

It's because of her that they're alive and they all know it. Which is why they're all ringed outside her tent, around the firepit. They wanted to make it as close to her as possible so she might benefit from the heat.

I'll put some heating runes around in her tent, but it's a nice thought, I guess.

Miles is sitting right outside, curled up into a tight little ball, looking forlorn. As far as I can tell, they're closest out of everyone. I mean, she did let him in on her plans first, after all. And  _we_  were the ones to tell everyone else.

I wonder what's going through his mind right now. He was the first person she saved.

"The mages have set up camp a bit further away from here," Serah Trevelyan mutters to me. "I assumed no one here would want us any closer, but if you need help with healing everyone-"

"No one is as difficult as Nik, the rest will be fine under my care," I say. Then sigh. "I don't hold this against you, Serah, but…they don't understand."

She dips her head, "I would leave, but I want to apologize to her directly when she wakes up."

"You can go on over to your camp till then," Navette is strong enough to snap and snap she does. "None of the rest of us want to look at you."

I can't say anything in her defense. She should've looked and listened before making her attack. What if we'd just been travelers dressed up in similar colors? She could've massacred an entire innocent party. And as she hasn't offered anything in her own defense, I think perhaps she knows that.

All I can wonder is what's going to happen when Nik wakes up. Everyone is bound and determined to follow her  _now_  even if they weren't before. And they were…to a certain extent. But after having their lives saved by a girl who was barely recovered from fighting for their lives to begin with?

I'd be surprised if any of them wanted to leave now.

Our entire purpose was to find the mages though. Will we still travel together, with this distrust and anger swirling around us? I just don't know.

 

* * *

 

Miles POV

I don't know how to feel about any of this.

We almost died. Nik is still asleep- I was so relieved when she woke up before but now-

Now I half-wish she'd just slept through it. I could've escaped the attack, all I had to do was walk into her tent, which I would've done just to check on her.

Or I could've run before the mist reached us…

Why is she always doing these things? Putting her life on the line for a bunch of people who don't deserve it or…who she just doesn't know one way or another.

…for me…

That mage is still here, and I don't really recall why. Everything is a bit hazy. I think Ren told me it would be for a while but I can't…

It doesn't matter. It keeps some of the thoughts from circling me like buzzards over a corpse.

Still I'm stuck in this rut of…thinking what could've happened and how it all could've been avoided. I don't think I've ever dwelled on something this hard that wasn't about me or my family or…

Why is she so important all of a sudden. That's what I want to know. Her saving my life, that's something, but it's…it's not the reason.

There are so many little things that shouldn't matter this much to me. The moments in-between, the smiles and the hands up and…just every single moment I've known her and all the moments after I knew what I could do, what I could've…done.

I feel like I'm discovering this whole world of power I could've held and been aware of and also…all the culpability that goes with not discovering it sooner.

If I'd just killed Andras a long time ago, poisoned his food- Nik wouldn't have needed to come to us to begin with. Or if she had, she would've been welcomed as a friend and comrade with no contention between us all.

Maybe Hermea would've taken over then, too…

No. She was too timid before. She saw a chance and jumped on it, but…that was after a protracted amount of time under Andras. Getting angry for a long time and feeling powerless can push you into…a lot of things you never thought you were capable of before.

If I'd gotten rid of Andras and the rest of his men, we'd have been left bereft. Not knowing what to do next.

…and whose fault was that exactly?

It's so confusing. How do people who lead know how to do it? How does it just…come naturally to them? And if it doesn't, then how is it stripped from the rest of us?

"Miles…" Ben is one of the most recovered, as he was closest to her tent, next to me. The both of us were effected…differently. "You feel alright?"

"No," I reply. "You?"

He shakes his head and then turns a little green. "Ugh. No."

"We almost died," I say. Frankly. Blank and a bit…amused? "She would've been fine. If she'd just…stayed. In that tent." I'm finding it difficult to parse my thoughts. As a result everything is coming out halting and probably sounds strange.

But Ben understands enough to respond, I guess. "I'm beginning to see a pattern with her."

I laugh, a bit unsteadily. It takes me a little by surprise. "I don't… _understand_  her. It's not just the kindness or the respectfulness or whatever else you can name that's different about her. I just…"

"She feels warm, doesn't she?" Ben says. "It's…the strangest thing."

"If she were a mage, I'd say it was some kind of…spell," I say. "But it's so subtle it's…it's like I can't even decide if it's real or my imagination. Even though you say you feel it too."

It's not as though I feel like I can't dislike her. Some of the things she says and does  _do_  grate on me, though it's…little things. Affectations in her speech that I don't understand and that she never explains.

I suppose I should ask but some part of me is afraid to find out what it all means. Or where she's from and who she really is. I can't really explain it, it's just…some part of the back of my mind, my instincts- whatever it is, it doesn't want to know.

And I haven't lived this long by ignoring my instincts.


	13. Nik POV, Miles POV, Navette POV

Ughhh…I feel like I got hit by a truck and buried in dung.

I feel greasy and itchy and my whole body kinda aches. "Mmmghrossss…"

"She's waking up!" Ren's voice is too loud.

I make a face and reach out with my hand, smacking him in the face with my palm. "Shhhh." I'm slurring but who cares. Ow, that hurt.

"Ow," Ren mutters as he removes my hand from his face. "Nik, open your eyes so I can check them."

"Mmmmnoooo…." I whine and wriggle under the blankets, clutching them to my face.

Ren easily removes them, still being gentle.

But it  _hurts_  because my entire body is as sensitive as the tips of my fingers usually are- times a thousand. I whimper a little at the feeling of the abrasive material being pulled out of my hands and curl into a ball.

"She still has too much magic in her system, I can't examine her like this."

"Have you tried a dispel?"

"Don't!"

"I wasn't-"

"I've done that, it just makes everything worse in different ways!"

"Alright, fine. Then what? I'm no healer but this is going to take time to recover from and we need to get moving toward Haven."

I have no idea who the second voice is and it's incredibly hard to follow their conversation. I barely recognize Ren's voice. Can't even tell who's saying what.

"Then we'll travel toward Haven together. It was her original plan, and even if she does hold a grudge, it makes sense to travel in numbers."

That was Ren. I think.

"Well then who's leading your merry band till we get there? If that woman who hates me is in the running, she'll just end up picking a fight."

What? What's goin' on?

I can't seem to make sense of any of it, but I gather that somebody needs to be in charge. After leaving Andras's place, I knew I needed somebody to lead the people because I am not…leader-y. So I gave it thought enough that I know the right answer. Or as close to the right answer as I can get while drugged and confused.

"Miles," I just kind of blurt it, and I think it startles them. "Miles is in charge."

There's a pause.

"Who's Miles?" the other voice asks.

"The…Elven Servant." That is  _definitely_  Ren's voice.

"Will the others follow him?"

"Not even a chance. Discounting the fact that he's the  _servant_ , he's also an Elf. Being passed over by the boss for an Elf…even if we spin it like she's just not in her right mind right now, they might rebel."

"Really? Seems a silly thing to get hung up over. Is he competent?"

Ugh. "Go. Away. Be quiet." I curl into a ball and feel someone's hand press gently into my back.

"We're going to go, but we'll be back later, alright? Don't move from here, just rest." Pretty sure that's definitely Ren.

"Come on, we have to figure out what to do next," the other voice says. And then it's quiet enough I can fall back asleep.

* * *

 

Miles POV

"Well obviously that's not going to work," I say. A little bowled over at the mere suggestion.

Me? Lead anyone anywhere? I've never so much as managed a kitchen!

"I believe she's just…a bit impaired, by the magic," Ren says. "You might be a fine leader, who knows. But those humans out there aren't going to want to follow one of us. Even the mages might have a problem with it."

"I'll have you know, Mages are much more open-minded about these things," Dahlia says. Affronted. "We've had many Elven Grand Enchanters."

"Oh? And how many of those did people just not like for 'personal reasons'?" Ren goads.

"Both of you, shut up." I'm tired of their sniping. "Either fight it out or stop talking about it."

They both scoff, but at least they're giving me a moment to think on this.

Nik impaired by magic? Apparently too much can make her a bit loopy but how does that even happen? Never even heard of people getting like that. If it were a thing, you'd think more people would be flocking to mage towers. Lyrium, Elfroot, certain kinds of weed- all provide a sort of loopy feeling and that's why people want it.

Why is it effecting  _her_  like this? And furthermore, why did she recommend  _me_  even when she's out of it like this? You'd assume her mind would go immediately to someone who's already a leader.

Navette would be a bad choice as she's chomping at the bit to drive the mages out right now but Ben. Ben is malleable. Spineless and easy to manipulate. Using Ben, whom would likely give up the power gladly when the time came…would make more sense.

I suppose she could think such things of me. Or that-

Wait. Hold a moment. I doubt the thought ever crossed her mind, guileless as she sometimes seems to be, but…yes. I could work with that.

"I see," I say and look up to see both Dahlia and Ren staring at me. "What?"

"You were muttering and your expression went all funny," Dahlia says.

Embarrassing as that is- "I figured out how to make this work. That way when she wakes up, she'll know we did like she asked  _and_  kept everyone from rioting. And she won't have to admit she was wrong." Humans hate realizing they made a mistake.

She's different in a lot of ways, but eh…that's always been true, no matter how kind the human in question.

"Great!" Dahlia says. "So what's the plan?"

"The plan is we seal off her tent and tell everyone she's still calling the shots, but she's so weak she can't take any visitors but me and Ren." I gesture at her. "This will mean you can't come in here any more either, to really sell that no one else is allowed inside."

"So you'll be in charge, but they won't know," Ren muses. "As good a solution as any right now, I think. Navette, Ben…all the other men whose names I never bothered to learn- they don't really seem like the impartial leader-types so whoever else we might choose…"

It would end badly.

"So what's your first order of business, Boss?" Dahlia is obviously joking, but.

I'm technically the boss right now. I could order anything and say it came from Nik and they would listen.

But that sudden odd euphoria is tempered with the need to do well. She just saved my life, I don't want to smear her name…or diminish my sudden authority by making her seem incompetent.

"First of all, we need to make it seem like sticking with the mages is tactically sound…and in fact…I have an idea for that." I look between Ren and Dahlia before elaborating. "If we tell them that Nik's accepted an offer for Atonement of some kind, they'd probably accept that. I mean, maybe not Navette. She'd probably still hate them, but at least she wouldn't argue if the order came from someone she respects and feels gratitude towards."

"I'd offer that anyway, but the terms would have to be fair. If she wakes up and enforces it, I want to be sure we're not being 'bought' by agreeing." Dahlia looks incredibly uncomfortable to even be considering it.

"You'd just join the Blades until we reach Haven. Become part of the command structure, like contract mercenaries." I shrug. "We'd be stronger and less likely to fall to random roving bandits or patrols of Templar forces that way."

"Most of the people out there have never had to fight anything more than a particularly mangy mongrel or something," she says.

"We'll run some drills, alright? It's for show. The most you'd probably be expected to do is barrier and heal the Blades." I explain. "Nik would probably see the tactical advantage in that, and wouldn't send you out to fight with your little sticks and no experience either."

"Hey, my little stick knocked a whole camp of you on your ass," she says. "Nobody said none of us could fight. I can create a fog around us that'll weaken our opponents, at least."

"That's great, but I'd reign that in," I say. "Even if they scoff or insult you, don't remind them about that thing you did that pisses them all off. Right?"

She inhales deeply and sighs through her nose. "Yeah. Right."

* * *

 

Navette POV

"So she'll fully recover soon?" I can't say I'm thrilled about being barred entrance, but even the Mage who tried to kill us all is staying away from the tent now, whereas before she was practically hovering.

Snivelling, piteous thing that she is, I imagine she wanted to ingratiate herself.

"Yes, but in the meantime, she's formed a contract with the mages." Miles is apparently relaying orders for her while she's in bed and that's the only reason he's allowed in. I suppose that makes sense in a way. After all, if Ren is healing her, he has to focus on that. But why is it always Miles?

Miles and Ren were the first to get in on the coup and while I understand why she'd want a healer on her side, why the servant? He's always with her and now he's her runner for orders too? That's a  _lieutenant_ ' _s_  job. A right-hand man's responsibility.

"What sort of contract?" I can't believe she'd still want these damn  _things_  traveling with us. They bring nothing but danger and ruination with them. Before it was just a job we were gonna take to get out from under Andras.

"Because Dahlia afflicted us all so badly, she feels remorse and wants to atone," Miles says. "Nik approved a recruitment contract in exchange for no more bad blood between us. They become blades till we reach Haven, then they go their own way."

"So they'll have to work for it, at least," I say. Not happy at all. "But why can't we just leave them behind? We could protect ourselves fine enough out on the roads. It's not like we need them. Hell, we were gonna get paid to protect them, that was the plan, right?"

"And we still will be," Miles insists. "They've offered to tend our wounds, barrier us in battle and Dahlia herself will put her immense skill with Entropy magic to work on our opponents. They will also enchant armor and weaponry for us as well as make whatever potions we might need on the way to Haven."

That's a  _bit_ more acceptable, I guess. "So long as we don't have to see their faces again after this is over, I don't care about the details. If she wants them along, we'll play nice." I glance aside at the mage walking off to her side of camp, apparently satisfied with their little 'deal'. "For now."

"We need to get on our way as soon as possible, but Nik is still recovering and moving around too much will disturb her rest," Miles says. "So we'll start tomorrow, but we'll be moving slow and we'll likely have to forage and hunt along the way, since we can't rely on traders turning up on the roads."

"Ben and I can handle that. As spineless as he is, he's a good tracker," I say. "So long as we only find deer and nugs out there in the wild, we should be fine."

"You can take one of the mages with you. I know you don't trust Dahlia, but-"

I cut him off before he can finish. "No."

And then I walk away.

Tolerating being given orders I don't like, that's…that's almost the norm for me now. And at least this time it won't end up in anyone's murder. But I am not trusting one of those abominations waitin' to happen with my back.

Ben and I will be fine on our own. We always have been.


	14. Nik POV, Dahlia POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nik's waking up soon I swear. I have no idea what's going on, I think Miles, Ren, Dahlia and Navette have all completely taken over.

"So she's awake but…" the lady with the braided black hair is back.

"What was your name again?" I ask. Sorta slurring.

"Dahlia, Messere." She replies.

"Yes she's…a bit lost, still." Ren is checking my body for bruises. The light is all tingly. "I have to be incredibly careful not to use too much magic or she'll shriek. Also her body can barely handle the amount in it now, so I can't talk. I need to concentrate."

"Alright, but Navette and Ben just brought back a deer and a brace of wild turkey. None of us know how to cook." Da…Doll, says.

Ren sighs, "where's Miles? You're not supposed to be in here."

"Took off into the woods to play sword, I guess?" Doll says. "He had something that looked like a stick carved up a bit to look like one."

"Well, go and get him, he knows how to cook at least enough to make everything edible." Ren says.

"I cook!" I say. "I can make a stew! Or jerky. I love Jerky."

"How long is she going to be like this for, do you think?" Doll looks at Ren and twists her hands together.

I try to mimic the action and get distracted by how tingly it feels.

"Another few days at least. She's recovering well physically, but…Nik, what are you doing?"

"My hands are tingly," I inform him.

"...she's not at her best, let's leave it at that. Having her out among the Blades right now wouldn't be wise." Ren's voice behind me is strained. Is he laughing at me? No. It sounds tired.

"Ren, are you sleeping?" I ask. Suddenly turning to look at him with squinted eyes. I can't really see all that well. Everything's there, but it's…not there in the right place. Or something.

"What? No, of course-" he seems confused. It must be the lack of sleep.

"You sleep, right now." I say very firmly. "Magic needs sleep more than…you need Fade juice."

There's a sound like smothered choking behind me but I ignore it.

Ren is staring at me with his brows raised and he lasts for a few moments before bowing his head and agreeing. "Alright then…Milady…" he sounds weird and his body is shaking. He must be  _really_  tired. "I will go and sleep in my bedroll forthwith, if you do the same."

"Okay!" I chirp and crawl over to curl up in my bedroll, under the covers. It's so warm~

* * *

 

Dahlia POV

"Everyone is so bored and listless. We need to give them all things to do or they're going to be at each others' throats," I tell him. "Since you're in charge right now, you should be the one to decide what happens and how we keep everyone busy. I'll spread the word among my camp, you and Ben will in yours, and everyone will be too busy to fight."

"Giving them busy work to exhaust them is just going to make everyone more irritable," he rotates the skewer slowly over the fire and glances around. "And be careful what you say out here."

"Oh I erected a  _barrier_ ," I scoff. "I'm not a  _child_  or an incompetent. I know better than to let people eavesdrop on me." Just because he can't  _feel_  it because he's not a mage doesn't mean he shouldn't assume or at least  _ask_  if it's there.

"Barriers block out sound, do they?" he asks in an interested murmur. "That could be useful."

"Yes yes, terribly useful for clandestine meetings in the moonlight- now what can we do about this problem?" I feel so useless, just standing around, doing nothing. Enchanting weapons and armor doesn't really take much energy or attention as we've been doing it for the Chantry for…our entire lives.

We need something to  _do_.

"I suppose we'll need a project," Miles says. Distracted as he tends to the meat in the firepit and the stew in the pot. "Something we can collaborate on. Nik would likely disapprove of us going back to banditry and Navette would never stand for it. But we could find a target worthy of ire and set upon them after much planning and scouting. That would keep them busy and it would give Nik time enough to heal to maybe make an appearance soon."

"A target worthy of ire? Like who?" I don't like the sound of this.

"Bandits." Miles replies simply. "We find some, we defeat them, we take their ill-gotten gains and we either keep or sell it. If bandits are the only targets, Navette will feel good about defeating them and everyone else will finally be able to fight again after a whole week of inactivity."

Well that's a bit of a relief, really. Killing bandits and taken stolen goods from them is more moral than actual banditry or preying on mages. Not that I thought Miles would ask us to do so…

Not that I didn't, either.

"So you and some of the other mages will have to disguise yourselves in regular clothes and go looking for information in the nearby towns and villages," he says. "I'll send Ben with you to escort and you can find a target for us."

"Well…let's just hope Ben doesn't take fright and run off at first sign of trouble," I mutter.

Miles chuckles, "as long as it's just a few people with a bunch of mages backing him up, he'll probably be fine. He didn't  _like_  going after the caravans, but they put up next to no fight, so he never ran. It was only when he'd be expected to fight someone stronger or in equal or greater number that he balked."

So the reason they all call him a coward is that he was just fine picking on smaller and weaker targets but he tried to refuse fighting someone stronger than him? Strange. That seems sensible. Trying to only tackle the enemies you can handle.

"Why does everyone call him a coward if he's just…cautious?" I ask.

The elf twists his mouth in a peculiar fashion. "In order to win in a fight, you have to risk it all. The only time you don't actually risk anything is against an unworthy challenge. Ben made a good lackey for bullying and massacring civilians, but he's a coward because when faced with a fair fight, he refused."

"But he didn't like doing all that, did he?" I ask.

Miles barks a laugh, surprising me. "And what did he do about it? Navette only kept quiet to protect him, and when the opportunity arose to fight her way out came up, she took it. And she'll probably feel terrible about what she did and try to correct it for the rest of her life. Even if it means taking risks. But Ben? Ben barely did more than whine about it and then go back out to do it again anyway."

"Why did Ben and Navette even join up?" It seems so strange that they'd join a mercenary band when they hate banditry. Mercenaries are usually just glorified bandits for hire, aren't they?

"Ben'd heard stories about the Blades of Hessarian when he was younger. Assumed they still applied when he caught wind of rumors. Talked Navette into running away to join them." Miles shakes his head. "Then they regretted it once they'd gotten there. But Ben was too afraid to run or fight. So Navette stayed quiet."

That sounds horrible. Having to bite your tongue, every day…I know what that's like.

…perhaps Navette and I have more in common than I thought.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is still technically the weekend. So I'm not technically late with this chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently my new pattern is updating Unwritten once a week alongside two other updates to whatever random-ass stories I've got the inspiration for that week. Lmao. Here's a new one for you.

"You decided to join us, Navette?" the treacherous snake asks me.

"I wasn't going to leave my cousin alone with  _all of you,_ " I snap. "Now hush. We should be inconspicuous."

I'll not fail the first mission my lady has given me. Especially not for such an important cause. Destroying bandit camps is worthwhile. I will not make up for what was done, but I can stop it from happening to other people in the future.

There are just so  _many_. We've heard of at least three since we first walked into the village. They're being bled dry, the people here. Destroying even one bandit camp could ease the pressure for them. But which one should it be?

Miles will likely relay information about all of the camps to the lady and she will choose, but I want more information before I bring anything back to her.

"We should ask some more people about the bandits, where they're coming from and what they seem to want." I decide. "If they're attacking merchants, it's likely they need supplies. If they attack mages or templars on the road, they could have some kind of political association or have been hired by somebody. Be best to know before going in."

"That is a good idea," the snake says. "Nik will likely want all of the information we can find. I have heard she is very…thorough."

"We don't know what she is, yet," I reply bitterly. "Haven't even gotten to know her that much outside what we knew before she got thrown in jail and then knocked out for days. And then another few days. And then a whole week."

The snake shrinks into herself at the reminder of what she's done, but says nothing in her defense.

"So let's go, then, shall we!" Ben interjects anxiously. He's never done well with conflict. He can face up to someone directly calling him out with some balls but they disappear when other people are fighting around him. Don't have any idea why.

"Ben, you go ask some of the farmers in the fields. We'll go and talk to the ladies spinning on their spindles and the rest of you lot," I turn around and survey the many disguised mage women we brought with us. "Remember what Miles said about eyes and ears."

Everyone breaks up into their groupings and I watch Ben rush off to bullshit with the men tilling the fields. I bet he'll be helping out with a hoe before long while he talks to 'em. He can never pass up an opportunity to ingratiate himself to somebody.

Hadn't seen this particular thing about him in a while, it almost seemed like it'd died while we served Andras. Good to see it didn't. He might be a weaselly little coward, but he's my favorite cousin and he's a soft-hearted man by nature. If he could've been a farmer or perhaps some sort of traveling merchant, he probably would've been happier.

But he's always dreamed of adventure. That was what led us here. Well, now I know better than to follow him off into the horizon, chasing childish dreams.

I only wish I'd learned that lesson well before Andras. Though maybe I shouldn't. After all, I wouldn't be serving My Lady now if I hadn't served Andras first.

I still regret all the death, and the pain and the guilt. But if it led me here? To someone who would risk their life for mine? For my cousin, for everyone I know and care for in our company? Then I suppose life has led me to a leader worthy of following and I should be grateful.

Did it  _have_  to happen like this?

I walk alongside the snake as we take our time, leisurely strolling down the lane toward the women spinning thread from distaffs wrapped with leather strips to keep the fluff on the top in place. The ladies are very sociable, chatting to each other as we approach, one hand drawing the thread, the other spinning it round the spindle.

I remember the ladies in my mother's embroidery talking about spinning their own thread and yarn from dyed wool…hm. I thought I was finished missing home a long time ago. It's not like I was ever happy there.

"Are you alright, Navette?" The snake asks.

"Fine. Let's go." It's time to gather information. I can't get distracted. This is my mission.

* * *

 

Nik POV

"Ugh, when is this going to wear all the way off?" I'm past the loopy stage and now I'm just achy, disconnected and cranky.

"Another day or two, I'd say," Ren says. Then grins. "Can't say I'm not a little disappointed. You're cute when you're drugged."

"Bite me," I grouse. "Where's Miles?"

"Out in the woods again," he says, shrugging. "I think he's trying to teach himself how to use a sword."

"Why the fuck isn't someone in camp teaching him?" Jesus, if everyone's treating Miles like crap because he's an Elf, I'm gonna rip some ass.

"I don't think he's asked," Ren says. "Maybe he wants to learn all by himself? I have no idea."

"Go get him and I'll ask," I say. Then rub my eyes vigorously when my vision doubles and then goes back to normal. A fuzzy normal. "What's everyone doing, anyway?"

"Plans to hit a nearby bandit camp to gather supplies and stop them from harassing the locals is already underway," he says.

And I blink a little hard. "Why? Did someone ask for help? Or are we just hurting for supplies?"

"Miles thought it'd be best if we had some kind of project for everyone to focus on so that everybody wasn't at each other's throats." He explains.

Confusing the fuck out of me. "What do you mean? Why weren't we getting along?"

"I guess you're lucid enough now you'll actually retain the information, so…allow me to explain."

* * *

 

Miles POV

' _No. No, not like that. His hip shifted differently._ ' I move into the maneuver and swing my weight around to execute a sweeping motion with my 'sword'. Something similar to what the Soldiers practice every morning in their exercises, to keep sharp.

Similar, but not the same. Something about the movements is off. I think I don't weigh enough. Elves are just…too small for this kind of thing, I guess.

Sighing in exasperation, I settle into my stance again and then pause when I hear the underbrush being crushed under foot. And then cursing from a very familiar voice.

"Mother fucker. Why are there so many damn sticker bushes."

I can't help the grin that splits my face, but I do try to compose myself as I shift out of position and turn to face Nik as she enters the clearing. "Milady."

"How the hell am I in charge?" She asks. "Ren just told me everything. I assumed after we left that everyone was going their separate ways but now I'm the boss? What the fuck, Miles?"

It's just so absurd. She's covered in stickers and leaves and there's a twig in her hair. I laugh. So hard that it hurts.

"I'll give you somethin' to laugh about, asshole," if her face weren't quivering on the edge of a smile, I might take that seriously and be worried she's actually mad at me. "And why is everyone mad at the Mages? We literally kidnapped one of their people,  _of course_  they tried to kill us! Ren informed me that if I try to go back on the whole atonement thing, it'd cause problems for you but-"

"Wait, what?" that dries up my mirth almost instantly. "You aren't angry the mages tried to kill us all?"

"No," she replies, simply. "I'm a little miffed they didn't do more recon and figure out we weren't the bad guys, but I can't blame them either. They were trying to save their friend."

The depths of compassion in this woman are unfathomable. No one I know wouldn't be at least angry with someone who tried to kill them, no matter the reason. "You are the strangest woman in existence."

"So I've heard multiple times now," she replies. "Now, why are you training all by yourself?"

I swallow and shrug, looking at the ground and shuffling my weight from foot to foot. "Elves aren't usually allowed to learn to fight and when they are, they use daggers or bows…I like the sword. But I'm…just not built for it."

"Not built for it?" she asks. Confused, obviously.

I gesture to myself. "I'm scrawny and short. I've never really heard of an Elven swordsman as capable as a human with a longsword…but I still like to…" I'm blushing up to my ears. I can't help it, I just…I like to have a dream. Even if it's unattainable.

She utters a snort that's so loud and abrupt I wonder if it hurt coming out. "What!? Oh fuck's sake Miles, of course you can learn to use a longsword. Hell, one of the best swordsmen in Kirkwall was an Elf with a Greatsword."

My eyes leap to hers and the honest confusion and amusement in them is enough to convince me that she isn't  _lying_ , but… "I've…never heard of any." I shrug. "Who…are they?"

"Fenris?" She says with a tone filled with meaning. I have no idea. "Escaped slave from Tevinter? Killed his ex-master with the help of his companions?" Still no. "Companion to the Champion of Kirkwall?"

"The Champion of Kirkwall had an Elven companion?" I'm…a bit floored. I'd heard of the mages, sort of…not really in detail-

"More than one!" she says. Seeming a bit indignant. "Fenris was a warrior, Merrill was a Dalish Mage…jesus, we really gotta talk to the others so I can tell them all what happened in Kirkwall but-" She shakes her head. "Tomorrow morning you're starting training with the others. Let's go."

Something lights up in my chest and my spine straightens. "Yes, Commander!"

"Don't be cheeky, you ass."

"Not at all, Milady." Will I ever stop smiling? I don't know. I sincerely hope not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The general idea here is that everyone ignored any nonhumans that fought with Hawke because in the DA universe, there's a bias against them. So because they don't really talk about them, the only people who know anything about the nonhuman companions of Hawke are either A: people who were there, or B: People who've read Varric's book.
> 
> Miles hasn't read it, nor had anyone else when he left home because it hadn't been written yet. In case you were confused about how Miles didn't know about Fenris and Merrill.


	16. Chapter 16

"So you lied to us," Navette throws up her hands. "I've had it with all this lying!"

"Truthfully, so have I, but Miles is not to blame for this." I'm currently standing between a whole camp of mercenaries and my newly appointed Lieutenant-  _that_  didn't make anyone happy -because I decided that manipulation and lies weren't a great way to build trust between the leadership and those under them.

Miles went along with it rather like a man walking to the gallows.

"Then who is to blame?" Navette demands, all the men and women under my leadership- till now apparently -squaring up behind her.

"You are," I say simply and gesture at them.

"This is going well," Miles sighs whimsically. Obviously still expecting cataclysm.

Ren and Dahlia are also behind me and I can hear them muttering their agreements.

"US!?" Navette is nearly purple at this point. "How's this  _our_  fault!?"

"Because Miles knew you'd never follow him or his orders even if I  _had_  appointed him, and I  _did_ \- and why is that?" I step a little closer to her until we're face to face. "Why is that, Navette?"

There's an energy building in camp. I don't know how this'll end up, but I know I'm done lying and deceiving the people who're supposed to be my friends. If that means a lot of them or all of them leave? Then fine.

Her jaw works. "He's a  _servant_ ," she says. "Why  _should_  he lead us into battle?"

I make a face and tilt my head at her. "Who the fuck is talking about battle? From what I hear,  _you_  lead that charge while Miles stayed behind with everyone else. I'm talking about the day-to-day. Organization. Morale. Why  _shouldn't_  Miles be in charge of those things?"

That seems to draw her up a bit short for a moment, but she recovers quickly. "He's the one who suggested the run on the bandit camps!"

"Yes, but only after other people had come to him expressing discontentment with sitting around doing nothing, waiting on me to heal. He did what any good leader does. He found a way around the problem of you not wanting to listen to him in order to ensure harmony in camp. He was doing a damn fine job. But I couldn't let the lies stand because I am  _tired_  of lying."

The camp is so quiet in between breaths of my next words I could swear I can hear the wind buffeting the trees.

"I'm tired of having to work around your prejudices and I'm tired of other people having to do so  _for_  me. I'm tired of knowing the best possible person for the job is an Elf or a Mage but also knowing that no one's going to stand for me saying so, no matter how true it is."

Stepping back I point out of camp. "You want to leave, go. But this wasn't Miles's fault. If Miles was more confident in your own acceptance, this wouldn't have happened. Everything would've gone smoothly, nobody's feelings would've gotten hurt and we still would've gotten all this from the bandit camp." I gesture to the loot lying around. "Absolutely nothing would've changed, except you would've  _known_  your orders came from an Elf. But he didn't because you wouldn't follow him."

"Like Navvy said-" Ben abruptly blurts. "He's just not qualified."

"Again I ask, qualified to do  _what_?" And I let that hang on the air, because no one wants to offer an interjection.

Not even Navette seems to have an answer beyond what she's already said.

Taking a deep breath, I put my hands up and sigh before speaking. "Look, I get it. You've been told these things are true your whole life. 'Mages are evil because magic is evil' and 'Elves are inferior' and 'Dwarves are all shifty criminals' and 'Qunari are animalistic' and all that shit. You've taken it for gospel because why would your parents and your priests and your favorite teachers lie to you?"

Everyone glances around at each other, and at me.

"Well I've got a radical thought for you, they didn't lie- they were  _also_  misled," I say. This is a lot easier for people to accept than their friends and family being malicious. If they can blame it on ignorance or misinformation, everything goes a lot more smoothly. "Are all of you aware of the Chantry's founding?"

"Of course we are!" Navette snaps. "We are the blades of  _Hessarian_."

"Yes and what did Hessarian do?" I ask. " _He_   _burned Andraste at the stake_."

There's a stillness to everything that I think hints more at a mounting eruption than anything else. So I say what I want to say quickly, in the hope that I can…put off that eruption if nothing else.

"He burned her at the stake and then  _he_  decided…to convert to Andrastianism. But not only that, he decided that converting was enough- that he could wash away all his sins by living by her principles and imparting them onto others and it's still debated to this fucking day whether or not his conversion was actually genuine!" I remember that much from codex entries about him.

"Was it a lie when you said we were supposed to be more?" Navette asks.

"No," I respond. "Do you want to know the difference between the person who creates a thing and the people who follow it?" I look around at the people arrayed against me, and they  _are_  against me right now, make no mistake about that. "It's the  _interpretation_. And me, honestly, I always interpreted that the Blades of Hessarian should be a blade of  _mercy_. That in the end, you do what you do out of kindness to others, instead of a need for honor or glory or wealth."

"That's what I want it to mean," Navette says. With a furor in her eyes and voice. "But what does that have to do with anything?"

"Is it a kindness to disallow others growth because you're afraid they might surpass you?" I ask. "Is it merciful to treat those at a disadvantage in life with less respect than you'd treat someone you see as equal to you in terms of class or race? Furthermore, can prejudice and mercy and kindness all exist within the same person at the same time without making that person a hypocrite?"

I think I might've confused them enough that maybe they're actually trying to think, now. I'm not sure. I could just be waiting in the lull before an attack. Ren, Miles and Dahlia all have their orders if that happens. We're gonna run, not fight.

But Navette steps forward and I'm a little blown away when she gets down on one knee and  _bows her head_ \- "You're trying to teach us something with this and I didn't see it before. I still don't understand, but I'd like to."

And because Navette is bowing, so is everyone else.

This is the moment I  _realize_  I've started a cult and start to feel  _gross_.


	17. Chapter 17

Maybe concluding that I'd created a cult was a little bit of an overdramatization.

That's the road I'm  _headed down_ , but it hasn't happened  _yet_. I was just so overwhelmed with the possibility- with the  _reality_  staring up at me from down on their knees-

"Ugh, I feel sick," I groan and curl into a tighter ball.

"You're the only human I know who's not totally thrilled to have loyal followers," Miles says. "I'm not sure why that's endearing. Doesn't make any sense."

"You wouldn't understand if I explained it to you," I reply.

I used to start trends in high school all by my lonesome. And it freaked me out then. It wasn't because I was so cool or popular that people wanted to emulate me, either and that somehow made it worse.

I just knew how to walk, how to talk, how to  _behave_  in a way that people picked up on and liked. And I had no idea I was even doing it until I got older and looked back. I mean fuck, I was so depressed in high school I couldn't see past my own nose.

But my depression gave me mystique- fuck that fictional trope -because I was constantly with my nose in a book and could talk like I actually knew a thing or two but only when words needed to be said. I didn't talk a lot, so my words gained weight.

Plus, I had begun feverishly researching psychological conditions because the mind fascinated me and after learning I had depression I was suddenly convinced that I had to know everything about it in order to get better.

I was weird that way.

So I came off as wise and clever and mature and people ate that shit up. When I looked back and realized all of it had been because I was literally too sad to muster up the energy to be anything but totally blank and kind of edgy it was…not only really befuddling but  _terrifying_.

How do you realize you could've held entire lives in the palm of your hand and not be effected by it? Teenagers are easy. I could've ruined them all in some way without even meaning to, that's what I was most afraid of.

It took me years of therapy to realize I was putting too much weight to a bunch of teenagers watching the same shows as me and taking up hobbies I took part in. It all seemed so sinister in hindsight but when given distance and time for introspection, I realized that half of the equation was that they just didn't know any better than to not follow any trend that wended their way.

And that's the problem right now, isn't it?

It's not that I'm so charismatic or popular or wise or mature- it's that they needed someone to look up to and aspire to be and I gave them that. Hell, I saved their  _lives_  and now? Now it'll take some serious convincing to get them to leave me behind.

And I would try, if that wouldn't mean that Ren, Dahlia, Miles and the mages would be left defenseless. I mean, mages have magic. But having magic and knowing that you can throw fire or lightning with your fingertips doesn't mean you can use it reliably or with any degree of skill.

Only Dahlia seems to have any idea what she's doing in combat.

"So what's next, Commander?" Miles has taken to calling me that, lately.

"I'm not a commander. I'm seriously considering running off into the woods, never to be seen again." I'm  _mostly_  joking. "Why is it that when I made you my lieutenant, Navette couldn't bark about qualifications enough but when choosing to follow me, she had no questions about mine whatsoever." It's not really a question. We both know a huge reason why. "How am I supposed to lead without any experience?"

"Get experience by doing, don't you?" Miles asks. "So are you gonna 'do', or not?"

"Ummm," a timid voice from the front of the tent says.

I peek out of my nest of blankets like the hobgoblin I am and see Dahlia standing in the entrance. "Oh right, I was supposed to talk to you. Miles?"

"Yeah I'll be back when she leaves," he says. He carefully holds his new sword and oiling rag out before him as he leaves the tent. He's been maintaining and cleaning that thing after every practice session. He's just so damn happy to have a sword.

He also hasn't really left my side a lot since I woke up and I'm starting to get worried about that. At least Ben stopped whining about having to train him. I just need him to teach him the basics and then I can get one of the others to spar with him regularly and correct him and he'll probably learn fast. Having so much passion for something really springboards your aptitude.

"So what did you wish to discuss, milady?" Dahlia sits down on the bedroll across from mine, where Miles usually sleeps. Apparently it's where Ren slept before I was coherent, to keep an eye on me.

Shoving myself upright and grumbling to myself in discontentment, I pull the covers around myself to keep the heat in. I have bad circulation. I used to take hot showers to get my body heat up when it'd drop too low in my extremities, but now I've just gotta keep my body as warm as possible at all times when it's cold out.

It's starting to suck.

"You're not atoning anymore, I told everyone that. You were there, and you seemed…upset," I say. "Why?"

She takes a big breath, slowly. "Well. If we're not here to repay the debt we owe you for trying to kill you, then-"

"You owe me nothing," I reply. "We stole Ren. I didn't intend that when I told them to go and get him, but that's what ended up happening and we were responsible for it. Your murder attempt was understandable. You were just…eh. Sloppy. We're gonna work on that, though, don't worry."

She stares at me for a while. "My. Murder attempt. Was. Understandable."

I quirk my brow, "hoping I'll hear some kinda nonsense in my own words? I know you're not used to being treated like people, Dahlia, but you are. And I understand why you did what you did. No apologies should be necessary, except that you weren't more thorough before you decided to go on the attack."

She bows her head, "I  _am_  sorry for that…"

"Alright, then we're gonna start your new training and everybody will treat you like the teammates you are." I say.

She blinks and looks at me with a quizzical expression.

"Your combat, and new magic training?" I say with a grin. "I may not be a mage, but I do know what it's like to finally be free after a lifetime of being dead inside. There's things I can teach you. And things others can teach you. In this camp and outside it."

She frowns, "you mean to train us and use us as mercenaries?"

"No." I perch my chin on my knees. "I mean to teach you to survive so that even if you're being hunted, you stand a chance of staying alive and free."

"Why?" she asks. Frowning even harder now. "Why would you do that for us?"

She's wondering what I get out of this.

"I've loved lots of people in my lifetime," I say. "One of them just so happened to be a mage who loved freedom. Another was a Dalish mage who just wanted to serve her people. Even more were mages desperately seeking a purpose." I shrug. "What I do for you, I do for them. It can be as simple and as complicated as that."

She's staring at me, "how could you have known so many? Apostates?"

"Most of 'em, yeah," I reply with a little quirk of my mouth. "Some were circle mages, though. Just like you. I'm from Kirkwall." I tack on that bit at the end- a lie that isn't quite a lie. I'm not from there, but I've technically  _been_  from there. "I've met, loved and been at odds with all kinds."

It's the one lie I'll have to keep telling forever, because no one would  _ever_  believe the truth.


	18. Dahlia POV

"I just don't see the point of this," I grouse. "I've been doing these tiny tasks all day. It's not even enough to tax my mana, and they're so nonsensical!"

"Ever occur to you that she's testing your limits?" Miles is cleaning his sword again. "And from what you're describing, they're getting slowly bigger and weirder. She's got some kinda challenge in mind that she's building up to. Seems pretty obvious."

He really is too brilliant to be a servant. Never would've guessed. That scheme with pretending to give orders from Lady Nik, that was just…the regular amount of clever I'd expect from someone but Miles has been…talking. A lot more lately.

It's like, now that he has a sword and knows how to use it, he's more confident. So he shows off his brilliance whenever he can, instead of biting his tongue.

Some people are getting tired of it, though Lady Nik seems to delight in every off-hand observation.

I suppose it's just proof that she was right that she's all excited about.

"Well it'd be nice if she'd let me know what challenge it is I'm working toward," I grumble.

"Did you even ask or did you just assume she wouldn't answer you?" he asks.

And at that, I have to pause and fight down the flush in my face because indeed, I did not. "I'll go ask her now, then!"

"You do that," he says.

I leave the training grounds, in search of Lady Nik. The tents are set up in such a way that if anyone attacks from outside, we'll have cover in all directions. I thought she was paranoid, but I have to admit, it also makes it easier to know where I'm going.

There are at least thirty mages with me. Add that to her small band of fifteen mercenaries and we have at least forty-five, give or take a few. Which means a  _lot_  of tents. And a lot of people  _in_ the tents who have different functions that other people might have need of.

Our enchanters were set up in the inner ring of tents. Our life mages between them in an alternating pattern with the least trained of the Mercenaries. Second ring is elemental mages and more mercenaries. Third ring is those of us with the most experience in a fight, or with healing- and the commander and her lieutenant.

Navette wasn't happy about being passed over for  _that_  job, but she seems to have taken it as a challenge to prove herself. Which could be good…or really really bad. Depending how far she tries to go with it.

As I approach Nik's tent on the outer edge of the opposite side of camp, I find her speaking with a few other mages.

"That's okay, we can start new tomorrow. The point of the tasks wasn't to complete them all, just to complete as many as you could. Now I can tailor the next level to further gauge your strength." She smiles at them with warmth. "With as much as you've done today, your skills could be useful for a variety of things. Other people being able to last longer or do more, doesn't mean you're useless. It just means your skillset will be different."

I pause and shift into the shadow of a tent nearby to watch and listen. It's a habit. I would do this in the Circle, to keep ahead of things. I'd always know when they were going to crack down, either because I overheard something or because someone else did.

Leading the mages all this way…was hard. We lost a lot along the way. Our coin, a few of our number…a lot of hope.

But when she smiles, they smile back and a tightness eases in my chest.

She told me I'm still in charge of the mages. She just wants to see what we can and can't do, so she can better know what to ask for and what not to. It made no sense at the time, not to me.

Mages are expected to follow orders and push themselves to their limits to comply. Being given the benefit of a Commander who understands what those limits are and how not to overtax you beyond them is…new. Different.

I'm not sure whether she intends that, though. She could, for all I know, be intending to throw the weakest of us away on cannon fodder jobs, while using the strongest of us for other means. But somehow I just…don't think so. I  _want_  her to be better. I  _want_  to trust her.

Only time will tell if I can.

"Doll?" she calls out and I startle. "Sorry, didn't see you there till now. Something wrong?"

I cough to clear my throat and play with the braid hanging over my shoulder. "I…I was wondering…what these tasks are for?"

A small quirk at the edge of her mouth and she tilts her head. "Took you half a day to ask me. Everyone else started complaining a long time ago."

Covering my flush, I shrug. "I suppose I just don't get bothered easy."

"Hm, no. You're falling in line," she corrects. "Part of the point of a lot of my training going forward will be breaking you of your more servile habits. They've been beaten into you." She crosses her arms. "I will try to help you break free. I have experience with it."

So she has implied before. "Are you a mage?"

She laughs. "No. I wish. I was just a very, very good, little girl."

I've never in my life heard a non-mage say they wish to be like us. It's baffling. Also a bit insulting. Does she not understand what that would mean?

"You seem angry," she observes wryly.

I carefully ease the entropic energy back within myself. It had begun to…escape me. In little tendrils. I need to be more careful, more controlled. It's just so  _hard,_ knowing that there are no Templars about and that I  _can_  let it out-

I don't want to shove it back in.

"Why would you want to be a mage?" I ask. Power, perhaps? Or maybe she worships demons like the Avvarian tribes. Never thought to ask if she were Avvar, in heritage or otherwise. What other reasons are there.

"It's magic," she says simply. As if that explains everything. "If I could make a flower sprout everywhere I stepped, and heal the sick with a wave of my hand…" She's musing. Sighing. Wistfully. "The power to help people and grow things. To protect others and myself. I can gain those same things with study, of course. Become a doctor, a farmer, a fighter. But magic…well, it's different. Where I'm from, it's just a fantasy. A story."

The expression on her face is indecipherable when she looks at me. "Knowing it really exists is enough. I always wanted to know there was more magic in the world. And you give that to me, every day. Just by existing."

I'm not even sure how to feel about that.

"Anyway, the point is that I want to establish a baseline. A norm. In the amount of mana you have as well as the range of abilities you can use, individually." She tilts her head. "I have given everyone tasks to do in every category I could think of except necromancy. Don't wanna have any accidents or disturb graves that aren't ours. Dalish might've buried some people anywhere around us. It'd be rude to awaken them without permission."

Why is she so strange? "And my tasks? I am not being pushed at all."

"I gave you tasks that were normal but then you weren't even phased, so I stepped it up a few notches," she says. "I guess that's still not doing anything for ya. Alright. Grow me a tree."

I blink. "A tree? Life magic is not…my specialty."

"That's exactly the point. Do as much as you can. And if you manage, try to grow another." She smiles. "Let me know when you hit your limit. Don't go beyond it. Alright? This is important."

So I nod, and…go off to grow a tree.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I'm late. Forgot to update on Saturday, felt sick through the weekend and it was snowing heavy today. Had to go out and sweep it off the dish.

"Another raid, so soon?" Navette walks into my tent with Ben behind her.

"Lovely to see you two are getting along again, but Ben is supposed to be hunting, not fighting," I remind them. "So it's really not necessary that he be here."

"Maybe Ben wants to prove himself," Navette says. "Why not let him?"

"Because Ben isn't suited to combat," I reply and nudge Miles. He's sharpening his blade and that sound makes my teeth grit. "Quit that while we're talking, please. If Ben wants to be useful in combat, he should hone his tracking and Archery skills. That'll be a hell of a lot more useful in coming campaigns than anything else."

"So I'll be fighting after all?" he asks. And I can't tell if he's happy or nervous.

"At some point. But you need to impress me with your hunting and tracking before that happens," I say. " _That's_  how you prove yourself."

He bows immediately with a murmured assent and leaves the tent. Navette doesn't look happy though she doesn't say anything.

And that can't stand.

"Navette, come sit with me." I invite her to sit on the cushion across from me. We bought some comfort items with the stuff we were able to find at the first mercenary camp. After they raided it, I went picking through and picked up things they thought were useless or too damaged to use and set some of our mages and less experienced fighters to repairing them.

They're skills that'll come in handy.

She settles on the cushion easily and watches me with rapt attention.

Navette is a soldier. Or I suppose, to be more accurate, Navette desperately wants to  _be_  a soldier. So the best way to help and teach her is through discipline and trials. She enjoys it when I challenge her. Mentally or physically.

"Before we discuss the plans, Navette…how do you see assassins?" I ask.

She makes a funny face, "how do I see…assassins?"

I nod, "what is your full assessment. Tactical advantages, disadvantages and personal opinion."

She sits up a little straighter, "well, as far as I see it. Assassins have the advantage over foot soldiers, but a disadvantage against rangers. They're quick, but so are the bowmen- especially with crossbows. It takes them time to attack, move away, throw another smoke bomb, and then escape. That's time the bowmen can use to line up their shots and hit their target. So far as I've seen, using this strategy works so long as the assassins aren't simply harrying the enemy as a distraction. They move much more swiftly and with less margin of error, then."

"And your assessment of them, personally?" I ask.

She scoffs a little, like it's a funny question. "Well, they're cowards. They don't come out of the shadows except to strike and once they have, they go back into them."

"And meeting you head to head on the battlefield would prove their bravery?" I ask.

"...yes?" she doesn't seem so certain anymore. Probably just confused by the question.

"I see. And what if you are outnumbered, outgunned, outmaneuvered? How do you respond? By running straight into the enemy's line of fire?" I ask.

She frowns, "no…I would use my wits and whatever tools were at my disposal to attempt to turn the situation to my favor. If I could not win, I would at least take as many down with me as I could."

"And you don't consider using tools and wits to be cowardly when  _you_  do it?" I ask, lifting my brows.

Her expression becomes irritable. "You're not gonna tell me that assassins aren't cowards, now, are you? Because I will never believe that."

"What is the best course of action for a person who is not naturally gifted with strength and who has no weapons training, when they've been cornered?" I ask.

She makes another face, this one confused. "I- run away?"

"I said, cornered." I reply. "Nowhere to run. But plenty of cover, places to hide. So what should they do?"

She thinks for a moment and then says, "that's different. They wouldn't have a choice otherwise."

"And we reach the meat of your beliefs," I say. Then point at her chest, right over her heart. "The courage inside you, is only as valuable as the restraint and skill you use with it. Dying for the cause is all well and good, but then what? One more dead soldier. One less resource for your people to use to defend themselves."

She shrugs and bows her head a little, "I still don't see how-"

"You have the  _choice_  to do things the clever way, or the way you get dead the fastest. Your choice to do things so that you clash head on will have ramifications for people in the field. For us as a whole. You are choosing  _wrong_. Honor is not facing your opponent openly and dying. Honor is defending the men beside you with your life and whatever else you have at your disposal."

She looks up at me, still seeming lost. "But Assassins fight for nothing."

"They fight for something," I reply. "You just don't know what it is. It could just be money, but what does money mean? Safety. Comfort. Survival. To impress someone, maybe. For love? For a legacy. To uphold their beliefs? The why is as important as anything else. And just because you have the choice to charge in headfirst and  _maybe_  win the day, it doesn't make you superior. Everyone has that choice. The people who don't make that choice, are the winners."

She sighs. "I don't agree. But I understand what you mean."

"That's all I wanted." I shrug. "So. Now onto the next raid. We need to thin these mercs around this area to help the people at the Crossroads. I know you guys aren't used to doing things gratis, but as I said before-"

"Mercy and Compassion before Glory and Profit," she recites.

I nod and smile. "Exactly."

If I'm going to have followers willing to die for me, I'm gonna teach them  _how not to die_. A lot of them already have the skills, but people like Navette…I worry about them. Because in the end, it is the sneaky and the clever who win battles and wars. Sheer force only accounts for so much.

It does help, but eh…numbers, power and strategy combined make for a good ending.

And this next operation is pretty damn important to me. So I'm going to be part of the plan.

Here's hoping Navette and Miles don't just decide to tie me up and go alone.


	20. Nik POV, Miles POV

"Oof!" I grunt and grimace at the pain that radiates up from my knees. Being shoved in the dirt is no fun at all. Especially in a dress.

"Found another. Some poor farmer's wife or daughter. Put her with the others," says my captor.

The other men in the camp all wear the same kind of armor. All with very chic styled hair. Both the kind on their head and the kind on their face. Some have facial tattoos that look like snakes or dragons or something. They look rougher than Dorian or that other guy from Inquisition…uh…Erimond? But still a lot more sleek than any Ferelden I've seen so far.

It's a little hard to concentrate on anything that's not the gag in my mouth. Ugh, I hate this. It tastes like cloth.

They did  _sorta_  what I expected. Knocking me out and then gagging me- but I expected maybe a spell or even a potion that'd dry my voice up.

Nope. They went old school. The most uncomfortable way, too, I'd wager. A bundle of cloth in my mouth, then another  _across_  my mouth to hold it in. This could kill me, I could choke on it. I am very carefully keeping my tongue pressed against it to keep it as far from my throat as possible.

Which is just…nope nope nope against my teeth. Ugh.

Another of them picks me up and drags me over to a trailer hitched up to some horses and of course I struggle a little. Mostly just trying to get my footing, but I also have to at least  _seem_  resistant.

He drops me inside the trailer and shuts it behind me.

Luckily I fall on something soft. Unluckily, that something is so still and quiet it makes me worry for a second that I might've fallen on a corpse.

But when I lift my head, I stare into the terrified eyes of another bound captive. And then I see at least ten more packed into the cramped quarters, all sitting or lying down. Probably trying to rest before they travel in this trailer over the bumpy-ass road tomorrow.

Sitting up as well as I can, I move my tongue around until I've got the band around my mouth up and covering my teeth on the top- and very carefully spit out the gag from underneath it. "Herro Erryone."

God, I sound ridiculous.

They're all staring at me with wide eyes, so I guess they're not gonna be very communicative. Especially as they all seem to also have gags in their mouths.

Well. This is gonna be a little difficult, but it's not like I didn't know that going in.

The tears on my face probably look a little strange with the way I smile at them through the gag. I didn't have to fake being completely terrified- but I had to do this.

Look at them all…so vulnerable and already so scared and hopeless. Some of them just stare at me with blank eyes and I…

I have to save them. So in order to do that, I have to ignore the fear screaming in the back of my mind, the tears that are still very slowly tracking down my face- and smile.

* * *

 

Miles POV

Navette is pacing. Dahlia is jittery and Ben looks unconvinced that he's tracking the caravan in the right direction.

Not even mentioning how Ren is casually lounging against a tree with his eyes darting in the direction of every small sound in the forest- ears flicking this way and that, so much that it's beginning to irritate me.

"Ben, do we have a heading?" I am tired of standing around, doing nothing. I have to at least move my mouth or I'll lose my head entirely.

"Yes, but…they're slowing down. As if they're reaching their destination or tiring- but they're on carts, with at least two horses pulling them." He paces back and forth, surveying the markings in the dirt again. "You'd need a lot of weight to tire and slow the horses like this. They must have many people in those carts."

"And we're going to save them  _all_ ," Navette says. She is very bright when she's inspired. "She should have managed to tell them all what's happening by now, come up with some sort of plan to keep them safe from the inside, like she said. All we must do is fight them."

"Yes, but how?" Dahlia is squeezing her staff and fidgeting with it. "If we just run in there, they could kill them all, like Nik said they might. We could also be outmatched and not even know it. It's just  _us_  out here…"

She whispers the last part, urgently.

Nik insisted it only be us who come to her rescue for this. Not the full company in its entire number.

"That's why we're going to be clever about it, instead of rushing in like a pack of starving wolves," I say. "There are ways to lure people into the woods without raising an alarm with anyone else. They'll need to replenish their supplies soon. They have many slaves they have to feed- even a minimal amount, to keep them alive. Add that to what they need to eat to stay in top condition and they will at least need to stop in a village- or hunt."

"While they're out hunting, I can put traps in their path back to their camp!" Ben offers, nearly bursting. "I can make them the sort of trap that you have to trigger manually or I can put a string across the path for them to bumble into. I can even make hole traps if Dahlia can use her magic for hole-digging."

Dahlia huffs but she shrugs and nods in acquiescence. "It would be the best way. We could make spears to skewer them on in the trap and I could put a silencing charm on the trap so their screams wouldn't alert anyone in the camp."

"Then we just cover the tops of the traps with leaves and dirt and branches," I say slowly. Nodding. "And when a party comes looking for their missing hunters- we jump them."

"And then?" Ren stands straight and squares his shoulders. "There will still be some in camp, probably."

"We steal their armor and walk into camp like we're them," I say. "We attack before they have a chance to react- and then we get Nik the hell out of there. And rescue everyone else in the process."

I will never be comfortable with watching that soft woman get snatched up by enemies much bigger and stronger than her.

She had to scream and beg them to stop when they captured her, to make it look good. We had to watch. They  _laughed_  at her.

It made my skin crawl.

"Let's just hope your brilliant plans don't fall through," Navette gripes. "For all our sakes, I hope you're half as impressive as she thinks you are."

I draw myself up and turn to Navette with a smile. "If you've got ideas, I'm all ears."

But she just pff's in my general direction and turns away. "You're the idea man, aren't you? This is your show. Let's get a move on, I'm anxious to get this done already."


	21. Chapter 21

"Get back!" One of the slavers is brandishing a knife- a dagger, actually- and he's pointing it right at my throat.

I sat up when the doors opened and I was the closest to them, so I was the one who got dragged out. So now I'm being used as a human shield for the last slaver left alive.

Or I'd assume so, I don't see any more but some might've run, who knows.

And you know, I didn't plan for this…

But as I see Ben, with his bowstring pulled back but refusing to fire because I'm in danger- Navette standing apart but ready to pounce- and Dahlia and Ren both looking kind of out of their depth at the back of the group, still maintaining barriers and healing spells…and Miles, standing off in the shadows- mostly going unnoticed, also ready to pounce but probably a lot more successfully.

I realize this is a teaching moment. And also that maybe that shouldn't be my first priority in this situation and it's really fucked up that it is.

"Ben, fire," I say. I got that damn thing off my mouth not long ago, with the help of some of the captives who wanted to hear what I had to say when I kept fucking up the word 'rescue' around the band in my mouth.

"Shut up, you!" The dagger presses into my skin and draws blood.

"I'm his only bargaining chip right now. He kills me, you can kill him before he grabs another slave." I continue, trying not to think about the warmth I feel where the blade is cutting into me. "Or you can get him before he gets me."

"I said  _shut up_!" he moves the dagger away from my throat, but only to bash me in the face with the other end.

It hurts! A lot! But I don't think he broke my nose, thank god. I've been bashed in the face before. It's nothing new. I grew up with brothers who liked climbing things.

Dull pain is familiar.

It  _is_  a blow to my  _head_  though and my vision swims- as well as my entire consciousness, really. Not enough to knock me out but enough to really discombobulate me for a while. So I close my eyes and try to breathe through it. I might go a little limp, though.

Long enough that when I blink open my eyes, I'm being held by Miles who's checking my vitals like I taught him to do. And I think I can see Navette pacing off to the side with Ben standing by looking haunted- but Ren and Dahlia aren't there.

"Where'd they go?" I croak.

"They're all dead, don't worry about it," Miles replies. "We're freeing the prisoners now, so just relax. Try not to sleep, though."

Well he did hit me in the head, I guess…

"Hard to stay awake with nothing to do," I mumble and blink heavily. "Talk to me?"

"I  _am_  talking to you," he says cheekily while hauling me up in his arms and carrying me closer to the camp fire. "But if you want me to pick a particular topic, you'll have to specify."

"Anything," I yawn. "I need to focus to stay awake."

Not only am I suffering an injury, which makes  _anyone_ tired, I'm also just plain exhausted. Physically, mentally, emotionally. It's been a taxing day.

But I won. They're free.

* * *

 

Ren POV

Never seen anything like this in my life and considering the amount of injuries I used to heal on a weekly basis, that's saying something.

A tiny boy, maybe no more than fourteen. Scratched, beaten and cut all over. The degree of his injuries isn't really surprising, considering the circumstances. But for some reason I assumed slavers usually treat their captives better. Damaging the merchandise brings down the price you can get for them, doesn't it?

Looking at him now, I suppose not.

"They dragged us through bramble patches," his mother whispers as she strokes his hair. "He fought back and they hurt him."

"Well, they're dead now," I reply. Focusing on the light pressure I feel in his abdomen- alleviating it and pulling the blood in the right direction until the internal bleeding is finally fixed.

I breathe heavily when it's done- a bit winded. I sometimes forget to breathe when I'm concentrating really hard.

"Here," Dahlia says.

I'd startle, but I'm a bit off-center to begin with. I might fall over.

"What?" I reach up and grasp the small cup being handed to me. "Water?"

"And some food," she hands me a few strips of meat and a roll. "We're giving what we can find of the food to the…um…people that we rescued," she says. Stumbling over her words. "But you need to keep healing so food and water are important."

"I…" Not strange that a mage would look out for another mage, I guess. Still strange. Usually I was always the one doing this sort of thing. "Thank you."

She nods and looks vaguely embarrassed before turning away and heading back over to where Navette and Ben are arguing about what to take and how much they can get for selling…some strange ornamental statue or amulet or something.

"Why?"

That  _does_  startle me a little, now that I've had a moment to gather myself. "Beg pardon?"

The boy's mother is looking at me with something close to suspicion but…I think she's a bit too wrung out for it. "Why did you do this?"

I shrug, "we follow her." I point toward the fire where Miles is settling Nik down on a stump, talking to her in a low, murmuring voice. "She wanted us to come here before they could get away with you. So if you want an answer, you'll have to wait for a bit, I think."

Already checked her injuries before. Minor. Nothing worth wasting mana on if there are worse injuries to be healed around here, first. She'll likely be fine till I can get to her.

Miles seems to be doing an able job of keeping her awake, so I need to get to the next group of captives. Even if all of them weren't beaten, they've each got matching rope burns that need healing.

Going to be a long night.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lateness. I feel all kinds of fuzzy and sorta bad lately and I totally forgot to write this update till like the day it was supposed to be updated.

They warned me. Walking right into the crossroads with a bunch of mages was definitely a bad idea.

Cajoling, the throwing of fruit and vegetables.

I just told the Mages to pick up the shit that was thrown at them or catch it and consider it a donation. They stopped throwing things pretty quickly. Seemed even more pissed off, though.

Well fine, they can stew in their totally misplaced fury. If they come after us, I've instructed everyone to disarm and beat them up only enough to make them rethink it. No killing villagers that've been misled by the Chantry.

Not unless they do something really horrible. Because principles aside if they try to kill, kidnap or imprison any of the mages with me I will full on murder them. I know every single one of them and bar like a handful? They're the nicest, kindest people I've ever met.

This is one of those times when someone on the internet would post a picture of them with a caption of 'I would die for u' and I'd like and reblog.

"Well, we're almost there," Dahlia sighs. "Remind me again why Redcliffe is important? I know there are Mages sheltering there, but we couldn't just keep heading for Haven? I'm sure they'd send whoever was necessary on their own."

"I want to recruit some of them," I reply. "They should have more options than 'starve in the snow', 'be at someone's mercy' and 'go back to the circle'."

"So you want them to be at  _your_  mercy, like that's somehow different," she says.

And I pause to look over at her, and everyone else pauses with me.

Dahlia looks like a deer caught in the headlights.

I'm just genuinely surprised. "Is that how  _you_  feel?" I think my stomach wants to rip itself apart.

"Well…no!" she exclaims. "Or…not exactly."

"You don't have to be afraid to speak your mind, Dahlia," I say. As gently as I can. "If there's any way I can help you to feel more free, you can tell me."

She's worrying her staff in her hands. "It's not. It's not you. It's just…without you we would still be dying on the road one by one. We wouldn't be safe with your warriors and learning to care for ourselves. And if we were suddenly without you- If you died or if we got separated, we'd be…pretty much doomed. It's hard to feel…free, when you know that."

I nod slowly. "Sure. Especially since you don't really realize all the ways you could've taken care of yourselves this whole time. I mean, you've been giving us enchantments for free but you could probably sell to merc gangs all over the place, you know?"

Her mouth opens, and then closes. "I…wouldn't that just…end up the same way as it did with Ren?"

"Not if you're a united front and show no fear. They picked up Ren because they saw you were weak and hungry and they thought they could get away with it," I reply. "If you could make them fear you, in a healthy sense and not just as mages- but because you're strong and confident and you wouldn't stand the insult- they'd likely just be happy to have a source of protection they can buy."

And then I roll my eyes and shrug. "I mean, not  _all_ , not  _every single one_ , but enough that you would probably only have to be fighting off about, I dunno, a tenth of the number you were thinking?"

"Mercenaries understand strength," Elliot speaks up from the middle of our little procession.

He's a fairly young mage with burn scarring on his face. His aptitude is with fire and he apparently did it to himself after a spell gone awry. He was pretty chagrined about it, like getting a spell wrong with your affinity is the most embarrassing thing ever.

"That's right," I smile. "They'd probably be confrontational and uppity, but there are ways you could forestall any plots against you. Miles could probably help with that."

Miles looks up from off the path where he's picking some of the Embrium and Elfroot growing along there and quirks a brow at me. "Going to pawn me off on the mages, are you?"

"Maybe," I reply. "Got any bigger aspirations you wanna enlighten me to?"

He snorts and goes back to putting the herbs away in his pockets. "You're not going to get me to admit to a secret desire to rule the world, Commander. Might as well give up."

I sigh at that and start the procession moving forward again. I asked him what his dreams were for the future and he seemed reluctant to have any. So I guess I'll keep asking and poking every now and then just to remind him that he's got options.

It's just me, Dahlia, Elliot, Miles and a few other mages and a couple of the Blades. Small group, hopefully enough that we won't make anyone nervous.

Navette has strict instructions to keep everyone in camp safe, if she's gotta personally beat the ass of every one of the villagers at the Crossroads to keep them the fuck away. She seemed overly enthused about that, but I think it's just the extra responsibility.

Gotta know if I can trust her with guarding the mages and shit and I'd rather know now than later if I can't.

Ren is still tending some of the worst off of the people we saved. The rest were sent home with some supplies for the journey and a blade to escort them.

They know where we're going, they'll make it back to Haven fine on their own.

I hope.

"You're doing that thing again," Miles says.

I puff out my cheeks and then exhale. "What thing? You'll have to be more specific."

"That thing where you're worrying about something so loud, everyone can tell." He says.

Stepping sideways so I can grab his arm and drop my head on his shoulder, I groan. "I sent them without any kind of idea what they might meet on the road."

"You have many many ideas, I doubt you had nothing in mind when you sent them off." He pats my hand that's hooked around the bend of his elbow. "They'll be fine. You've been teaching them how to move in the woods so they don't make as much noise and they know those people are their first priority."

"Sure, I guess," I mumble.

"Just out of curiosity though…" he pauses until I glance up at him and stares down at my face while we walk and talk. Searching my expression for answers as he asks: "You sent whole teams off somewhere and didn't tell me where or why."

"There's things I can't say or tell anyone," I reply. "They have a vague idea of what they're supposed to do, but any more than that could put me in a bad position."

He nods and returns to paying attention to the road ahead. "I see. You always did seem to have more going on than we could see. Guess that's just confirmed now."

"It won't hurt anyone. We might save a few people, in fact." I shrug. "Whatever happens, it's on me. Not you."

"I'm your lieutenant, so half the blame is just automatically mine, isn't it?"

I can't really answer him. My body stops and he gets pulled to a stop with me.

"Nik?"

It's hard to hear anything but the lament in my ears. Someone is crying out for help, crying in pain-

Releasing Miles, I take a step off the path and then another and another until I'm running, running through the trees toward the noise.

I think they're following me, shouting at me to stop, but I know if I let it go, I won't be able to hear it anymore. I can't not follow it.

It's not like a voice, it's more like a tug deep inside myself that just…interprets itself as a voice.

Someone needs me.


	23. Miles POV

I don't like this.

She's never just taken off running like that, even when we were imperiled. Either something spooked her or she's running  _toward_  something and I can't think of what it could be.

We're barely keeping up with her, it's ridiculous how fast she is- especially as she seems so out of it she should be tripping over every root and tree branch and she just…simply isn't.

I got ahead of her at one point and stopped to look at her, to see what she looked like. Afraid, or determined or what-

But her face was blank. Utterly blank. It actually sent a shiver down my spine.

Several times, I questioned why we weren't just grabbing and pulling her to a stop. One part of me was leery to touch her while she was going through some sort of…I dunno, something that was effecting her mind. Who knows how she would react.

She could hurt herself, or one of us, or we could hurt her by accident.

And so, instead of chasing her down and tackling her or grabbing her, I decided we should wait for her to stop, unless she was about to run off a cliff or something. So at the moment we're just following.

Well, Dahlia and I are. Elliot stayed behind with the others when I shouted at him to take over leading them up to Redcliffe.

It comes as a complete surprise when Nik halts in the middle of the forest, on a very…faint path. Like a marionette whose strings were jerked, violently.

Dahlia is gasping for breath, lagging behind us, and she collapses in the dirt when she sees we've stopped. Even I'm a bit winded. But Nik doesn't seem effected at all.

She walks very slowly toward…toward something in the underbrush.

It's a lump that is revealed to be a body when she kneels down and pulls it into her arms.

A Dalish woman, dead. Body torn up by something, looks like a sword might've done it.

' _How did she know._ '

Lots of things about Nik terrify me, but this is the first time I've suspected her to be somehow supernatural. The mages say she doesn't feel like a mage, and they're the experts, but how else do you explain something like this.

"Where is he?" she whispers to the corpse in her arms. "I'm sorry I couldn't save you. But I can save him if you tell me where."

"Who are you talking-" I take a step forward and then stumble back.

Nik's head has dropped back and she stares sightless at the sky for a long, drawn-out moment before coming back to herself and breathing heavily, like she just woke from some kind of nightmare. "Okay…I…I can do this…"

She carefully settles the woman's body back on the ground and looks up, starting a bit in surprise to see both myself and Dahlia staring at her.

Clearing her throat, she looks away from us. "Dahlia, can you…take her back to the others? We should give her back to her clan."

Dahlia glances from Nik to me and back again. "I…I could carry her, I suppose. But I'm so tired from following you, I-"

"That's alright, take your time," Nik says. Standing from where she's been kneeling beside the body. "Miles…I'm going to need your help with…something else."

And here I was, thinking this day couldn't get any stranger.

Following Nik as she walks down the very light path and glancing back only once to be certain Dahlia could handle the weight of the body she had to carry back to camp- I wonder if perhaps I'm actually dreaming.

Everything is very vivid, very real, but…so incredibly strange that I want to wake up and find it was a fantasy.

She darts down the path, but not because she's taken by the same fervor. No, this time, she's in complete control of herself as she sprints down the trail and shouts directions at me.

"Whatever happens, just follow my lead! Don't get confused, just go along with what I'm doing. Don't ask questions, don't pause, just go with it! Got me?" She shouts as we run along the trail.

"I don't think I could even begin to formulate the questions necessary to get an explanation for what just happened," I shout back.

She laughs in a sort of uneven, breathless way. "You can ask them all later when you come up with them, I promise!"

We run, but not for that much longer.

What we come upon when we reach the place she's been searching for, I stop dead in my tracks and experience an onset of fear and rage so sudden it nearly makes me sick.

But I dart forward again when it's clear Nik isn't stopping. Don't really know why I did, I just. The shock, of seeing such a thing, I guess.

I mean, I've seen humans brutalizing elves before. Back home it's all that would ever happen to any Elves that got too loud, too clumsy or too…pretty. It's part of why I left. I couldn't stand being closed in that damn place anymore with all the misery and the death and…

And now here I am, staring down this sort of situation again.

We're running across the expanse of a very large clearing, where a Dalish elf is being cajoled by two men in armor. Two human men, and…I think those are Templars.

I can hear them laughing and insulting him, telling him to get up and asking him where his 'pride' is and Nik is still not stopping.

Knowing she would throw herself into dangerous situations- I still would've assumed she'd want to walk around the clearing, take them by surprise, something else other than running straight at them, but here we are.

"Who in the blazes do you think you are!" she stops near enough to shout at them and stands her ground when they turn to face her. " _What_  are you doing!?"

Her entire accent has become upper class Ferelden. The way she's holding herself says Nobility and the glint in her eye screams rage.

The men pause, swords in their hands and looking confused. "Eh…you lost, miss?"

"Yes, in fact I  _am_  and you are currently pummeling one of my  _guides_. Are you responsible for the other one, as well?" Her tone is incredulous, haughty. "Do you have any idea how much work I had to do to get Dalish guides through this region!?"

The Templars are seeming uncertain of themselves. One of them coughs and says, "beg pardon milady, we didn't know they was yours."

I flinch a little internally. But I get what she meant now about following her lead.

"Milady has come all this way to experience nature, bought these grubby clothes and walked all this way and now she'll have to wait days before that guide is well enough to lead her on the rest of the trail!" I huff as if I'm her servant.

She turns away from them with her arms crossed to communicate displeasure. "And here I thought Templars were supposed to exemplify the  _Virtues_. And yet here I find you beating a non-mage Dalish guide for seemingly no reason. There are no arrows pointing out of your armor. In fact you do not even seem scuffed. So pray tell what did my guides do to incur such wrath?"

The other Templar clears his throat, seeming to be taking charge of this situation. "We were tracking them for a bit, miss. Wanted to catch the Mages they hide away with them. Sure to be abominations and blood mages, they are."

Nik turns on them so quickly and with such vehemence that  _I_  nearly stumble away from her. "So are  _you_ telling  _me_  that you could not track, hunt and kill a mage without incurring civilian casualties!? Is that not what you're  _for!?_ "

There's a very obvious grimace on the lead Templar's face. "Eh…as it were…we assumed we would have to fight through them. It's…usually the case."

I hear the Dalish take a breath and groan nearly silently.

None of them react, so I don't think they can hear it.

"Be that as it may, I have an agreement with this particular clan," Nik waves them off with a flapping hand. "Shouldn't you be getting to that, eh. What was it, a soiree at the village in the mountains? The peace summit thing," she gestures for them to correct her.

"Th-the conclave, yes. Of course my lady, we'll be off on our way as soon as we can find the road. So sorry to have disturbed you." He  _bows_  and turns, hurrying off with the other Templar in tow.

"Miles, get him. Carry him? I can't or they'll see," she mutters urgently to me. "I have to keep playing the prissy Noble until we're sure we're not being followed anymore."

"I can't believe that worked," I am almost bursting with confusion. "I- yes, I'll. We've got to hurry."

Rushing to the prone body lying in the grass, I flinch at first seeing his injuries but quickly kneel down. "Oi, we're here to help. The Templars are gone."

There's a hissed intake of air and then a pair of bright blue eyes blink open to stare at me. Not much, just enough that he can see me. And some tension seems to go out of his body. His eyes flick as far past me as they can, but I don't think he can see Nik.

"She's human," I explain. "But she's not actually a Noble. We're helping you get away. Can I carry you? I'm not gonna lie, lookin' at you, it…it's gonna hurt. But we have a healer back at our camp that we can get you to. He's not too far away."

The Dalish looks at me and then closes his eyes, sighing deeply. Muttering in the Elven language before answering a bit louder. "Doesn't seem I've much of a choice, does it."


	24. Chapter 24

Sooo…this is awkward.

Our newest 'friend' is sitting in the middle of camp, angrily carving arrows from sticks while nearby mages watch him with nervousness.

He's got the prettiest long, snow white hair. It's braided from the front of his hairline, to down around his ears and then back around his head. The braids frame his ears, prominently displaying them. The rest is all loose and flowing.

This man could pretty much be the prettiest guy I've ever seen in my own world. I mean, I'm not attracted to men I don't know, as my attraction pretty much hinges on personality traits but…I'm an artist and I know symmetry when I see it.

"I see you're up," I walk over and greet him. "And filled with vengeance and righteous anger…but you're still kinda injured…you're not gonna run off and try to kill those guys or anything, are you?"

He huffs and mutters to himself in Elvhen.

It's really too bad for him that I know a bit of Elvhen and I recognize like half the words. And that I've always been good at figuring out the rest from context clues…

"I'd appreciate it if you don't disparage me when you think I can't understand you." I say. "Call me a Halla's ass to my face."

He looks at me like I just snapped all his little sticks right in front of him. Not really angry or shocked but filled with bewilderment.

"I've been friends with Dalish before," I respond to his look. "And like, I understand that you don't really wanna talk to me and all, but I am worried about what happens to your clan if you run off and get yourself killed."

He draws up almost like he's gonna argue or snap at me but then he deflates. "We'd be left without any seasoned hunters." Not like he's been scolded, but like he's just remembered they're a hunter short.

"You and she were the only experienced hunters in your clan?" I ask, gently as I can.

"Vellathas and I were the only ones left," he says. "Now…it's just me."

"And you are?" I ask, tilting my head.

He looks up at me and squints, possibly due to the sun's glare, also possibly because he's deliberating over whether or not to answer.

I just smile a little and try to look as nonthreatening as possible, sitting on the ground across from him and re-arranging his sticks into orderly piles. Up till now he's just kinda been tossin' 'em to the ground. I think it's mostly a thing he's using to cope. The rhythm of a much-practiced activity can help you shut your brain off.

"Shivanas," he says after a moment's pause.

"Duty," I say. "But as a name it's like 'the dutiful one' or something I'd assume?"

He stares at me for a moment before sighing and carving at his arrows some more. "I suppose you must've been close to the Dalish you've known, then."

We were practically family as Merrill and Hawke. And Velanna was always a fun companion to my Warden, sort of. Surly and closed off…but then that's kinda my thing most of the time.

"I mostly learned about Elvhen from independent study and listening to the Dalish speak it," I reply. "I was never formally taught. I just know a handful of words here and there. It's a beautiful language."

He hums.

"I don't know if those Templars left, but I'd like to err on the side of caution," I say. "I wanna send Miles with you, to help you get Vellathas home and to help protect your clan on the move. I think you're probably going to want to move them, so-"

"And if I refuse?" he asks. Twirling an arrow in his fingers and staring at it.

I spread my hands in a conciliatory gesture. "You're not a prisoner here. I want to help, but I understand that you don't trust humans, that most Dalish don't. That's mostly why I offered to send Miles and not Navette or…any of the other humans."

Speaking to people in their own language can annoy them sometimes- especially when you're not really fluent. And I don't want to be disrespectful or anything but Shivanas mostly just seems puzzled every time I speak Elvhen, not bothered. And if I'm going to learn any more of it, I gotta start speaking it.

No matter what happens next, any skills I can pick up could be useful in saving Thedas from the Breach. And then…what comes after that.

"Is he not so fine a warrior you would not send him anyway?" he asks.

"He's just beginning to learn to be a warrior, actually." I pause and think for a moment. "Do you know how to use a sword, like in an Elvhen style and not a human one?"

He reaches behind him and draws a short sword from a sheath, then puts it back. "My training has been with daggers and shorter blades. What he carries is a greatsword."

I sigh, "none of the human styles are suited to Miles. They make him feel awkward and clumsy, or like he shouldn't have a sword in his hands, even though I can tell he really loves it. The only Elf I knew who could wield a greatsword is in the wind. I suspect out killing slavers near the Tevinter border, but he  _could_  be anywhere."

"There  _is_  someone among us who  _could_  teach him," he says. "But only if he were to be adopted into the clan. I'm sorry but your friend is not one of us. Teaching our ways to outsiders is strictly forbidden. Especially those whom we do not know the intentions of."

"Understandable," I say. "It was just a thought. Anyway you can take him or not- I've already asked and he's willing to help. But if not, then." I shrug. "I wish you all the best and you can do as you like."

He squints at me again. "You're a very strange  _Shemlen_."

"You know, I've heard that a lot lately," I say a little whimsically. "I think maybe all the other humans are weird. The things  _I_  do at least make perfect sense."

That earns me the smallest huff of amusement.

"Nik!" Ren is waiting at the end of camp, pack on his back. "I'm ready, let's go!"

"I gotta go find my mages that I basically left all alone. Miles is staying here, so if you wanna get to know him and see if you could stand him on a road trip all the way back home, you should talk to him." I stand up and smile, waving as I back away from Shivanas and his little piles of arrow-sticks. "See ya!"

Ren waits for me to come abreast of him and then turns to keep pace with me. "I didn't know you knew any Elvhen. Or Dalish for that matter."

"Nobody ever really seems to ask me about myself," I reply. "I kind of enjoy that, seeing as most of what I could talk about is kind of horrible to remember. But they never ask what skills I have or any other innocuous questions. Do you think they're afraid of me?"

He snorts as we walk. "Afraid is not the word I'd use, Commander."


	25. Chapter 25

"So you are a Mercenary Commander," Teagan addresses me when I walk into his, eh…throne room? Audience chamber? "I don't often give audiences or get requests from Mercenaries…not unless they're being hired to fight in a battle."

"I understand this is a strange circumstance," I come to rest just far enough away that his guards won't get antsy. But close enough I don't have to strain to hear him or be heard. "But strange times create strange things, and oftentimes the best people are forged in them. After all, the first blight was a strange, terrible time, but it did give us the Gray Wardens."

"Indeed, I suppose it did," he replies. "And so you are here for…aid, or perhaps employment?"

I shake my head. "No. I'm bringing an offer for the mages and anyone else who might want to join my new order."

"A new order of Mercenaries, recruiting through proper channels," Teagan muses. "And now I've seen everything."

"We aren't mercenaries. We don't really work for coin," I shrug. "We're more a group of concerned citizens who try to do our best to look out for everyone else. It's a lot of work and it's difficult, but it is very rewarding."

"And what is the creed of your new order, then?" he asks.

Before we even took this path, I discussed this with everyone. Before even walking down that dirt path toward Redcliffe.

Not everyone is enthusiastic, but no one really objected. Even Navette seemed ambivalent about what we call ourselves.

"The Protection of the Common Folk Above All Else," I respond. "The Integration of Mages and Nonmages, Humans and Nonhumans and the Regulation of Power Therein."

"So you are a guard force for hire who don't accept payment?" He asks. And he seems a bit incredulous, or amused.

"No. Not for hire. We choose who we protect based upon who is in the right or who most needs defending." I shrug. "We're more an organization of individual participants who use our own best judgment to attempt to bring about a peaceful solution to hostile situations. Barring that, we kick the ass of the biggest asshole in the room."

I think one of his servants snickered but I could be wrong. Maybe they just have a cough.

"And what exactly are your parameters for…who needs defending?" He's really trying hard to avoid asking about the ass kicking, I can tell.

"The people at a disadvantage in a situation. It requires understanding the situation with all the nuance that goes into it. First and foremost, we protect the people who've done nothing wrong, or at the very least, those who only did wrong in order to defend themselves from someone worse." I crack my neck and stretch my back a little. "The reason I'm here is that I'm headed for Haven. We're going to attempt to petition the Divine to allow Mages to join our order with the blessings of the Chantry. And I'm here because I heard you've a close relationship with King Alistair."

"We are family, after all," he says.

"That's not really saying much about your relationship," I reply. "Family is circumstantial. Friends and comrades are…different."

"I suppose they are," he allows. "And so you hope I can pass your petition to the king."

"Yes. The Templars, the Gray Wardens, the Seekers of Truth…basically every organization that's sprung up in the past has had a particular function. To combat Evil, to Contain it. To Watch it closely. In whatever form they perceived that evil to be in the most abundance at the time. At first, it was just Darkspawn. Then it became mages. And now we're at the point where we could tip the scales in one direction or the other."

"And what directions are those?" he asks. Leaning forward to tent his fingers and rest his elbows on his knees.

"Well. We can push back harder against the mages and incur a long, bloody rebellion in which many people die- Mages are killed simply for existing on either side and in the end, our world is a bit less harmonious than it was before." I hate having to put this in such simple terms and appeal to people's sense of self preservation and…just watering down the issue so people will agree with me when they should anyway.

"And your alternative is to give them power." He says.

"No," I reply. "My alternative is to give them  _responsibility_."

Taking a quick walk, a short circuit in a circle around the throne room, I try to shake off my exhaustion from traveling for so long. Plus all that running yesterday and then the long walk this morning, ugh.

"Instead of imparting the mages with the idea that they're terrible evil monsters who can't help but eventually implode into a demonic abomination…I'd instead offer the idea that they're servants of the people who choose their own path and if that path is sinister, they will be destroyed along with all other criminals who harm the innocent. But if the path is innocent and virtuous, they will continue to hunt that filth alongside their compatriots in our ranks."

Ending my little walk right before the 'throne' once again, I straighten up, incline my head.

"In the end, caging the mages will either make them so miserable they all want to die, or make them so angry they want to kill us all. Giving them responsibility might end badly in a few small cases, but if they're given enough honor and prestige that they would regret losing it, they would be less likely to revolt."

I'm feeling a little petty so I smile without any real mirth and finish with. "You know. Make them feel happy and fulfilled and maybe they'll have no reason to fight you. Seems like a simple solution, doesn't it?"

"I cannot promise you any sort of…agreement," Teagan finally says. "But as you seem to be seeking an official sanction from the crown, then it is only right that your petition is heard, but…you realize you require a noble or two, preferably more, to give their support for you."

"I figured as much, yeah," I reply. "I'm hoping to have all the support I need in the next few months to make my order a full, legally recognized part of Thedosian society. And if you would allow me the opportunity to prove myself and my men to you, I would like to secure your support, first."

He chuckles, "well I suppose we've much to discuss, then."


	26. Nik POV, Miles POV

Well, I couldn't really expect much more than a tentative agreement to 'think on it' from Fiona but I was at least hoping she'd seem…

I dunno, more enthused about the mages having another option? Even if it seemed unlikely, it's just. I mean, I  _love_  having options open to me, even if I'd never take that road, knowing it's there is incredibly relieving.

But then, Fiona _is_  looking for mage independence outside policing forces and such and even if I offered for her people to be protected whether they wanted to join up or not- I mean, she could've just, not believed me.

"You would welcome the Tranquil into your order?" Clemence intones with no emotional quality to his voice whatsoever. "What would you have them do?"

"Well, that would be up to you. What you want to do, what you're good at. My order isn't just filled with warriors and it shouldn't be. We should have a full range of skills from all walks of life. So I suppose you'd tell me what you're the most efficient and practiced at, or what you find enjoyable and I assign you jobs that take the skill that you're most used to or most like."

He tilts his head, "Tranquil do not find what most would call enjoyment, in things."

"You have your own kind, like anyone does," I reply. "I know you don't feel emotions exactly the way we do, but the brain interprets things you do and gives your body feedback based on those things. You can still interpret those signals, can't you?"

He nods very slowly once. "It is difficult to describe to one who is not Tranquil. It is different, that you understand. Very different."

"I hope it's a good different," I smile. "Anyway, if you and your people feel like you'd want to join up, you can head toward our camp just outside Redcliffe or even make your way to Haven where the Conclave is taking place. My people would welcome and protect anyone from your number they come into contact with. Even if you're not joining up and you just need protection."

"Your order sounds like an honorable one and I hope your petition is approved by the King." He says. "As for us, we wish to stay and see what happens next at the Conclave before making a decision."

"That's prudent," I shrug. "Still, I'm leaving some people down outside Redcliffe to lead anyone who wants to go to Haven there, once the Conclave is underway. So if it starts to look like you need to jump ship, you'll have an option. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening."

"And you, Commander," he responds.

I get up from the table with a smile and drift back to the table at the back of the Tavern where all my mages are sitting and talking to the Redcliffe mages they've befriended since they got here without me.

Though when they see me coming, they all kinda scatter. I'm used to that. Apparently since I'm the Commander here and I've technically got command of Dahlia's mages at the moment and whatnot, I'm basically on the same level as a Templar to them.

I mean, ouch. But whatever. If it makes them more comfortable to think they're sneaking around under my radar, why not.

"Hey Doll," I greet and sit in the booth beside Dahlia. "Ren."

"This is so strange," Dahlia says. Humming a little as she swirls the drink in her tankard. "It's almost like living in a village for real instead of, you know, taking shelter in a time of war."

"Some of the mages here already want to leave and head for Haven with us," Ren informs me. Looking like he's not taken a single sip of his own drink. "But they're too afraid to face the Templars there or don't want to leave the other Mages here."

"You can inform them that the others can take them anywhere along the path to Haven and I'll find them after everything is over," I say distractedly while pulling out some paper and that quill and bottle of ink that I'd requested from the Arl earlier. "Now, I need your help, you guys. Can either of you read and write in Common?"

They both answer in the affirmative, though Ren makes a hand gesture that basically universally means 'kinda sorta'.

"Okay, well I need to learn. My people wrote with an entirely different alphabet." I write down the alphabet on the front of the first page, one letter at a time. "I'll start with showing you my alphabet and you can both teach me the runes for Common."

"You're going to teach us  _your_  language while you're learning ours?" Dahlia asks. "Why?"

"No one else in Thedas would probably be able to read it without some serious study first, and until we come up with codes of our own- this'll be a good way for us to communicate without anyone else being the wiser." I explain. "Who wants to go first?"

"Come over here," Ren moves aside and gestures to his right. "Dahlia's too drunk for this right now. Show me your language and I'll show you what I know of Common, then Dahlia can correct my work tomorrow."

Dahlia sighs but nods in agreement. "I probably wouldn't be much help right now. I'm not only slightly sloppy, I'm also just dead tired."

"You should go and get some sleep then," I pat her on the back. "We've still got traveling to do once we leave here and it's best you're well-rested."

She grumbles but gets up from the table after I've shifted around to sit with Ren. Throwing frowny faces at me until she's left the tavern.

"What's up with her?" I ask.

Ren shrugs and rolls his eyes, "who knows? Now show me this…what did you call it?"

"The Alphabet," I reply.

And the rest of the night before bed is spent that way, showing how the Alphabet is just a way of phonetically spelling out spoken words in Common.

* * *

 

Miles POV

This is hopeless.

"You really are new to this," my adversary says, circling me. "What did your Commander think you could protect me from, really?"

I huff and cross my arms over my chest, refusing to get up from the ground where he last threw me onto my back. "The Commander values my disappearing and sneaking skills, and thought it best I learn to defend myself once she learned I wanted to wield a sword. She also thinks I'm tactically…acceptable. She likely thought there was simply more safety in numbers. After all, you can't both carry your friend  _and_  fight off hungry animals and Templars at the same time."

"Hmph," he collapses in the dirt next to me in a cross-legged position. Staring down at me, with his fist supporting his cheek, his elbow on his knee. "She asked me about someone to train you in my clan."

I skew my mouth to the side a bit. "Yes, I know. She told me she was going to ask."

"Why didn't you?" he asks.

It's difficult to concentrate when a man more beautiful than the fairest depictions of Andraste is staring at you with so much focus. It's like trying to catch smoke with your hands. You can certainly grasp at it, but it's lost as soon as you've done so.

"I dunno, didn't really see the point," I shrug. "I know that Dalish elves only rarely ever take converts from outside and I dunno what  _I'd_  have to offer."

"An alliance with a human mercenary commander who might lend us aid in times of need?" he muses slowly.

I purse my lips and scrunch my nose a bit. "Damn her. I didn't even realize- and she thinks  _me_  the master tactician."

"She seems content to allow you to choose as you will," he says. "Would you want to be part of a clan?"

I sigh. "I want to be a warrior. It's what I always wanted. To protect myself, the people close to me…" I can't follow that train of thought.

I lost them all. That's why I left.

Never again.

"But I don't know about joining a Clan. I also want to be free from…obligations," I say. "If I wanted to travel the world, what then? I'd be stuck having to protect an entire clan of people. Not that such a thing isn't fulfilling in and of itself, but…what if it's not what I want?"

He listens patiently, still watching me with that bland expression on his face. "Sounds as though you don't  _know_  what you want."

"Ha!" I cross my arms a bit tighter and turn my head away from him, smiling. "No. No it doesn't seem as though I do, does it?"

"The clans accept more of the people from outside the clans than you think," he says. "It wouldn't take much convincing, with your position as that woman's lieutenant and some sort of formal alliance that meant we could call on your people in a time of need. And you'd be expected to travel between us, being a formal go-between in that case. You wouldn't necessarily be tied down there."

"You seem awfully keen," I turn my head back and smirk. "Didn't think I made all that striking a first impression."

I think he's blushing. "My people are down a defender, I'm only thinking of what could close the gap in our defenses."

I hum, "sure."

He pouts and it's as pretty as the rest of him. "And I don't…find you terribly objectionable, either. I suppose."

I snort at that a bit, one of my hands lashing out to smack him in the side. "Arse. Next you'll be declaring your undying love for me because that has to be the nicest thing I've heard come out of your mouth since we picked you up."

He huffs and stands, offering a hand up. "Whatever." He's still a little pink.

I take it and 'stumble' a bit so I'm standing a bit closer than I think he intended. "Mmmn, you know I wouldn't mind joining up if it meant I could keep looking at you."

He releases my hand and moves away, redder than before. "I am  _not_  that easy."

Ohhh,  _fun_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ya know. I knew Miles was gay.
> 
> I did NOT know he was Gay Casanova.


	27. Chapter 27

"You're staying?" I ask with some trepidation. "It might not be safe for much longer."

"I know," Dahlia replies. "But that's why I have to stay. Fiona is trying to wrangle all these mages mostly on her own. I didn't find a single other Grand Enchanter here that was worth anything. They're all too old, too young, too selfish or…" She shrugs and sighs. "I need to stay."

"Well alright, but promise me you'll come to Haven if anything happens?" I ask. "Even if you've heard I've moved on, people there could point you to where I've gone and I'd make sure to leave some kind of message for you."

"I promise," she replies. Smiling. "I'll also bring about a dozen dozen or so mages with me when I do, too."

"The more the merrier," I say and shrug. "Be careful, Doll."

"And you as well, Commander," she bows her head a little. "My people will follow Ren's orders until I come back. He'll do ably, I'm sure."

"I don't know that he loves the idea, but he was willing enough not to turn it down." I shrug. "So we'll see, I guess."

"Come on, Commander!" Ren is walking past us as we say our goodbyes, lugging a huge pack. "I've gotten some supplies and our business is done here. If we want to make it to Haven before the Conclave, we should get moving."

"Not gonna say goodbye to Dahlia?" I ask as he stalks by me.

"We'll be seeing each other again, soon enough, but it'll be longer if you don't get  _moving_ ," he says.

I sigh and turn back to pat Dahlia on the shoulder. She seems kind of melancholy at the refusal of a goodbye. "See you, Doll. Be safe."

Taking off down the path after Ren, I catch up to him just as he comes abreast of our little group of mages that are headed for the camp down the road.

"Alright, how many of you are recruits and how many are just being escorted?" I call out as I approach.

Half of them break off and salute me the way I've seen Inquisition scouts in the game do, so I guess those are mine. They all look familiar, anyway and Elliot is over there.

Turning my attention to the slightly smaller half, I smile. "Recruits, go over there with the others."

About a third of them walk over to stand with my people and what's left are some very scared and very blank-looking people. One or two with a starburst, so I guess some of the tranquil decided to take me up on my offer early.

It's not a huge number of people, and I might end up only saving about a handful from their respective fates in both Haven and Redcliffe but…eh, that's better than saving no one and doing nothing.

"So you guys are headed to Haven or somewhere else?" I ask.

One of the young men steps out of the crowd and lifts his hand. A blonde Elven man. Very young, like…maybe near his early twenties? Maybe less? "I need to get to the Crossroads to check on my parents. But everyone else is going to Haven."

Crossroads. Blonde Elf. Parents.

_Hyndel_.

Clearing my throat, I reassure him. "That's fine, I can make sure you make it there. But while we're traveling, would you mind helping out with whatever you can around camp? All of you?"

"I can help with guard duty," one of them says. "I'm good with runes and barriers."

"I suppose I can help with whatever herbal mixtures need to be made," Maybe-Hyndel says.

"The rest of them are all lower-level apprentices who hadn't been through their harrowing yet." Elliot interjects. "They'd be better off just observing and assisting."

I take a second look at the apprentices and realize they all look unbearably young. Maybe a little younger than maybe-Hyndel, not by much. But that's  _too_  young, in my opinion.

Remembering that the Circle steals babies and separates them from their families causes that familiar flare of heat under my skin to rear its head. Like I'm burning from the inside out.

I smile and nod, "absolutely. And maybe our mages back at camp can teach them while they're traveling with us. It never hurts to have a little extra knowledge or skill."

There's an air of relief around them and I don't know why or what they thought I'd say but thinking about it will probably just depress me. So.

"Alright, let's go!" I move to the front of the procession and start leading the way down the path. And am I glad this path is a straight shot down to our camp- seeing as my sense of direction is so terrible I never know where I'm going.

And since this isn't a game anymore, that means there's no map to rely on.

"Miles?" I'm a little surprised to see the two figures ahead on the road, especially since I could swear they weren't there a second ago. "What's up?"

Miles and our new Dalish friend walk over to us at a sedate pace so I'm guessing there's no disaster back in camp. Which calms my frayed nerves. Which frayed just about immediately after seeing them on the road.

"I wanted to let you know before we left, though I suppose I could've simply waited a bit and you'd be back, apparently." He says.

"I am not waiting any longer to warn my clan of the Templars roving in this area," Shivanas says. "I must go."

"Totally understand," I reply. "Do you have everything you need to make the trip back?"

"I grabbed a small pack of supplies while we were in camp," Miles replies. "We won't starve or dehydrate on our way there, at least."

"Medical supplies?" I check.

Miles rolls his eyes, "as if I'd forget."

"Just making sure," I defend with my hands up. "You coming back soon?"

He shrugs, "don't know how long it'll take to get there. If I am, I know to head for Haven."

I grin. "Then I guess I'll see you later. Can I hug you goodbye?"

His ears flick a little bit, like he's surprised. "I-sure?"

"Is that a question?" I tilt my head and squint. "You can say no."

He snorts, "will you shut up and hug me you ridiculous woman?"

I laugh and step forward, both of our arms wrapping tightly around each other.

Miles was the first real ally I made in this world. The first person I identified with, saw myself in. Even if he's only gone a while, I'm going to miss him like hell. "Be safe, Miles."

He laughs a little. "That is just the exact opposite of what I want."

I pop him in the side with a closed fist. "You can kick ass without getting bits cut off of you, jackass. I'd better find you intact when you get back."

"Are you going to inspect my hide?" He asks cheekily.

I scoff a little, pulling away and punching him again lightly on the chest this time. "Just don't die and we'll call it even."

He grins in a flash of teeth and a glimmer of mischievous eyes. "No promises, but I'll give it my best shot."


	28. Ren POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Know that interactive novel I ended up having to rewrite the beginning to?
> 
> Well here's the link to Book 1, Chapter 1!
> 
> First link is textadvantures and the second is philome.la. Depending on which you're more familiar or which you like more...
> 
> http://textadventures.co.uk/games/view/3brzzlnut0c0cdgiitluzw/aetherial-identity-rewritten  
> http://philome.la/UnrealRomances/aetherial-identity-rewritten
> 
> I finished chapter 1!!!

Miles had described this to me, and Dahlia had tried in her own words- but this is…something else.

"What's she doing?" Some of the others are watching their Commander walk dead-eyed across a barren battlefield, the grass still wet with blood.

Most of us though, we're standing back, watching everywhere else.

Sighing to myself, I exchange a glance with Navette who looks incredibly unsettled. "She's done this before. When she found the Dalish. I suppose someone out there might still be alive."

"How would she  _know_?" Navette whispers. "What is she following?"

"I don't know. Miles and Dahlia said it was like she was hearing a voice and talking to someone," I reply. "Maybe the dead lead her to them."

It's a daunting prospect, to consider the possibility. After all, Nik isn't a mage. Not even remotely.

"There are those with subtle magic," one of the mages from Redcliffe speaks. "Those who are considered witches and such but don't have any flashy abilities. It was written down in some of the books back in my Circle that some could speak to the dead, see the future…things like that. They aren't usually taken to the circle because when the Templars check, there's no proof of actual magic. People usually think they're just charlatans."

Nik stops in the middle of the field and bends down to grasp something. She pulls a small dagger free from where it had fallen into the ground and examines it before walking back toward us.

Her eyes blink and suddenly she is present in the world again. "Hey guys…anyone here know how to make an antidote for poisons they find?"

"I…could try?" That same person from Redcliffe- what was his name? "Though I don't have the equipment for it."

"Anyone have any empty, clean vials? I'll reimburse you." She calls out. "Also anything else he needs. I promise everyone will get paid for whatever they volunteer." And then she turns to walk back out into the battlefield. "I'll find you a vial or two of the poison on somebody. I'm sure there's one here somewhere."

"Is anyone still alive out there?" I call after her.

She glances back at me. "I don't think so, but you're welcome to check."

Then why is this important? What is she wanting this antidote for?

I continue to ask myself those questions as we wade through countless bodies. Picking up supplies, coins and whatever else we can find that might be helpful.

When she said we'd make plenty enough money to keep afloat just looting the bodies of our adversaries, I was skeptical. But seeing as there's altogether about two hundred royals worth of loot here in coins, weapons and armor we can sell as well as other small valuables- I have to admit she's probably right.

Not taking money from the populace will mean people don't have to pay to be rescued, which means everyone is equally protected in theory. Though I wonder if this wouldn't mean a rogue couldn't just-

"Justicars, eyes and ears!" the Commander shouts.

We all instantly fall into defensive positions and survey our surroundings.

This is a training drill, she does it several times through our daily travels. It's a command that needs to become as easy to obey as breathing. And it's one of the only ones she says must be obeyed every single time.

Anything else? You can disagree with your commanding officer if you think they're morally wrong or refuse to follow the order for the same reason.

But the only command you must always obey is to be alert.

This woman is one of the strangest I've ever met. Not only because of her odd ideas about leadership and serving the people first- which truth be told, I am curious to see come to fruition…but also because of her mannerisms and style of leadership.

So many moments when someone wasn't certain what they should do and she behaved as if the answer was right before them. And then faltered and explained when she realized we had no idea what she was thinking.

I believe the Commander has the very faulty assumption that all people are on the same level as her, or at the least that she believes if she gives them the chance, they can be. Suppose we'll see if she turns out to be right.

"As you were!" she counter-commands.

And people begin pawing through the battlefield again.

It was actually good to do this here, as there very well could be stragglers from this battle hanging about. But she's been doing it at odd moments, to test readiness. This time, everyone seemed to realize the command had been shouted in good time and followed it- but there were still a few who took a moment before settling into a defensive stance.

I believe she wants to keep going until we're perfectly in sync. I'm not certain where she learned to train people this way, but-

"Hey Ren, can you help me with these?" She's carrying a handful of  _something_  all bundled up in a blanket from her pack. "I can't find my cleaning kit but I saw you can make blood disappear or evaporate or whatever."

"Sure," I reply. Taking the bundle from her arms and carefully settling it all down on the ground.

I peel the blanket open and pass a hand over it. Focusing on the blood covering everything and pulling it away from the cloth, leather and metal. It runs in a river of red down one side of the blanket and off into the grass where I leave it as I bundle it back together and hand it to Nik.

She takes it and seems to deliberate for a moment. "Can I ask you questions about magic? Sensitive ones?"

Strange that she should ask, seeing as she's  _been_  asking about magic since we met, but…Sensitive…

"Depends what you're wanting to know," I reply cautiously.

"What  _is_  blood magic?" she asks. "It's not just magic where you do something to blood or use blood, right? Cause the Chantry doesn't classify the Phylactery's as blood magic…"

I'm a little caught off guard.

Not that she'd ask, but that she's asking  _me_. "I'm a healer, I don't know anything about Blood Magic."

"I'll ask one of the other Circle mages, then." She smiles. "I know what blood magic would be intellectually but seeing as some things are and aren't allowed involving blood and spirits, I figure it's best to be informed on what is and isn't considered blood magic. You know, by the Chantry."

It is better that she inform herself on issues she's directly involving herself in, yes. But… "Why Blood Magic?"

"Why blood magic what?" She asks. Lifting both her brows.

"Of all things you'd be curious about, why that?" I clarify.

"Well it's a pretty big fearmongery deal that the Chantry uses to justify basically everything they do. That and Demons, but well- I can ask about that, too." She shrugs. "I just wanna know everything I need to so that if it comes down to it and words can be used to help- a good argument can get us out of something…I need to be able to do that."

I cross my arms. "It's just about beyond that point, now."

"Probably," she says and nods. "But I like to have my options open just in case."

"What drew you here?" I find myself asking, apropos of nothing. "You seemed almost in a trance."

She looks a bit embarrassed now. "Oh that's…I don't really know what that is, but I usually call it my find-it sense. Sometimes it's people I need to find, things I need to find…but it's usually always important. It's not magic, though. It's like…an instinct. Or like my brain picks up on cues in the world around me that I don't consciously recognize? It's hard to explain."

"Not magic, but strange," I remark.

She snorts. "Story of my fucking life."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Know that interactive novel I ended up having to rewrite the beginning to?
> 
> Well here's the link to Book 1, Chapter 1!
> 
> First link is textadvantures and the second is philome.la. Depending on which you're more familiar or which you like more...
> 
> http://textadventures.co.uk/games/view/3brzzlnut0c0cdgiitluzw/aetherial-identity-rewritten  
> http://philome.la/UnrealRomances/aetherial-identity-rewritten
> 
> I finished chapter 1!!!


	29. Miles POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This update is kinda short, so I'm splurging and updating twice today.
> 
> Translations will be at the end of the chapter when I use Elvhen. I'm just gonna start now even for the very sparse Elvhen I've got here.

"They were this close the whole time?" I can't believe it.

"Did you really think I was going to let on while your  _Shemlen_  Boss was around?" Shivanas passes me a bowl of some stew.

Can't say his clan took me in with open arms, but after Shivanas explained the situation…well, they still weren't happy but at least they looked less ready to murder me if I blinked wrong.

"Nik wouldn't hurt your clan," I say. "She just wanted to be sure you got home safely."

"Forgive me if I don't give a  _Shemlen_  the benefit of the doubt when two of them just tried to kill me," he replies.

"I could mention we  _saved_  you from those two  _Shems_ but I'll refrain," I say. And then take a bite of my stew.

Shivanas gives me a deadpan look. "Thank you ever so much for not mentioning it."

"You are so very welcome," I say. And wink.

He's turning pink already, he's too easy to fluster.

"Try not to pester everyone in the Clan before it's time for you to move on back to your Mercenary group," he tries to save face by being overly serious and scowly. It's adorable, really it is. "You might've helped me, but that doesn't make you one of us. I'd tread lightly if I were you."

"You're referring to that thing this morning?" I ask. " _That_ was not my fault."

"I didn't say anything was your fault, I said to tread lightly," he rebuts. "And goading other young hunters into sparring with you is not treading lightly."

"Dunno why anyone'd have space to complain, they kicked my arse." Just remembering is enough to make my body ache. "I usually have a whole group of mercenaries to spar with, as you've said. How else am I supposed to get better, if I don't practice at every available opportunity?"

"Just spar with me," he says. Glaring sideways at me. "Don't bother the other hunters."

"Another thing, you said you didn't have any other hunters," I observe. "I distinctly remember Nik mentioning that at one point. So what, you'd hoped to lure her in with promises of an easy kill and then pounce?"

Shivanas shrugs. "I meant adult hunters. These children have no Vallaslin yet, and only go hunting. We don't send them scouting or put them on guard rotations for the most part unless we suspect danger and we're short-handed." And then he looks at me again, tilting his head a bit. "But that isn't a terrible plan, now that you mention it."

"Suppose that's why Nik made me her Lieutenant," I reply. Looking down into my lap, I stare at the stew, like it holds the answers to all life's questions. "Before I didn't really understand. She told me I was 'sneaky and cunning and all kinds of underhanded' and I thought for a moment, that it might've been an insult. But it wasn't."

"Why would she call you underhanded?" Shivanas asks, narrowing his eyes. "I understand sneaky and cunning, but…"

"I asked the same question, though I was a bit insulted about all of them." I shrug. "She said the term implies being deceptive as well as clever. And well, it fits. I did deceive the whole camp into thinking I was giving them orders directly from her when I wasn't. Could've just told them she was unconscious and named Navette leader while she was out."

But I'd wanted that position of power. I'd wanted to be in control, even if I hadn't realized the desire at the time.

Wanted to prove something, I guess. That she hadn't made a mistake and it wasn't all some kind of fever-induced decision.

( _Miles, I made that choice before we even left the Blades Camp. You were always going to be one of my main advisors, even if you didn't end up being good at combat- I still wanted to hear your ideas. They're good ideas!_ )

A hand on my shoulder shakes me from my reverie.

Shivanas is giving me a stern look. "You'll learn soon enough that looking to  _Shemlen_  for their opinion of you is much less important than your own. We've had city elves before, adopted them into the Clan. They all had to unlearn a lot of habits. If you stayed, we could help you do the same."

"Mmm, you just don't want me to go," I say. Narrowing my eyes, playfully.

He's turning red again, but doesn't move and keeps looking into my eyes. "And if I don't?"

"I still don't want to be held back," I reply. "So we're going to have to work something out with your Keeper if I'm going to consider it at all. But…"

Reaching up, I catch his hand with mine, pulling it up to lay a kiss on his knuckles before he can pull it away. Maker, he's cute when he's flustered.

I grin at the scandalized look on his face. I think he's trying to look like he enjoys it less than he actually does. The way he's cradling his hand so close to his body but still kind of leaning toward me with wide eyes, it's just.

' _Stop that, or I'll kiss you and then we'll really be in trouble here._ '

"If you want me to stay, I could see myself hanging around a while."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shemlen - Means 'Human'. Literal translation is 'quickling' which just means something akin to 'mortal'. It's a throwback to the times of Arlathan.
> 
> Shem - It's just a shortened version of Shemlen. It's City Elf Vernacular.


	30. Chapter 30

"Everybody stay calm and keep back a bit," I say as I walk out in the space between us and her.

The Qunari woman sitting against the tree just off the beaten path- she's watching me, hand gripped around her staff. Probably a mage. Ready to fight even though I know she's probably really close to dying right now.

There's blood everywhere, all around her. A couple of dead Templars on the ground that I walk past just to get to her.

I stop before I'm within striking distance and slowly lower myself down onto my knees.

We sit there staring at each other for a few moments before I speak. "I have a healer with me, if you'd like to survive this."

She stares at me balefully out from underneath a swath of snow-white hair stained with her own blood as well as her enemies, I'd guess.

"All you've gotta do is signal that's what you want, somehow." I say. And then think a little further on what else I can say before it occurs to me that she's probably waiting for the catch. "We're a new order of people dedicated to helping others. No price will be paid or asked for."

She moves a little, and spits blood on the ground next to her. "…happens…to me after?"

"We don't arrest mages for the Chantry or anyone else. You can go your way and we'll go ours." I shift and settle back on my haunches. "But we need to heal you fast or you're a goner. Alright with you?"

She grunts and drops her head in a nod. "Keep…my staff…"

"Sure, Ren probably won't mind." I stand slowly and turn around to walk back toward the group, pointing to Ren and signaling that he should move toward me.

He rushes a little fast over the grass, but I don't think she minds at this point.

"This is Ren," I introduce as he comes close enough for her to see. "He's a mage and he's gonna use some healing magic on you now, okay?"

I watch as he approaches her, then sits on the side opposite her staff hand, and places his palm over her biggest wound. A gash in her side. "Hold still and breathe, this should be over soon enough- I'll have the largest wounds closed enough they won't continue to bleed but we'll still need bandages and poultices to wrap her up with."

So I nod and turn around to walk back toward the others. "I'll get the supplies."

When I crest the little hill where our people have been waiting, I see they've all decided to set out their bedrolls on the road to sit on and chat.

They look up when they see me and some start to get up but I wave them down. "Everybody's fine, you can stay. Just need some medical supplies. Bandages and poultice-"

"For what?" a woman's voice asks.

But she asks it  _imperiously_.

It sets my hackles up immediately and I turn slowly toward the mage who spoke with something burning up inside me already. Because I know what that tone means. Either she's questioning my authority, which is fine-

Or.

"You wanna travel this stretch of road alone?" I ask.

She makes a face at me, "we don't need an  _ox_ -"

I take a few very quick steps over to her, startling her into scrambling backwards off her bedroll. "I meant do you want us to  _eject_  you." I clarify. "Oh." I turn around to face the bulk of the group, a lot of which has gone tense. "Did you think I was limiting you to just not disrespecting  _Elves_? If I hear one more fucking slur, I will throw your ass into the wilderness and let you fend for yourselves. And before you question me about tending to someone, I want you to ask yourself if you'd have a problem if that person was the same race as you. If you wouldn't, then shut up and keep it to yourselves."

Everyone is very quiet and very still. And while it doesn't make me feel good, I at least know they're listening.

I turn back to the woman that spoke before and she looks terrified.

"You feel free now and that's wonderful," I say. Steadily looking into her eyes. "But using your newfound freedom to oppress others or deny them the treatment they rightfully deserve is doing a disservice to the spirit in which you were freed. If you are deserving of good treatment, everyone is. If you don't believe that. Leave now."

She's shaking, so I take my attention off of her and turn to the rest of the group again. "Medical Supplies." I say, lowly.

A few mages and some of my own people scramble to get together a pack filled with bandages, poultices and some small sewing kits for stitches. Which I didn't ask for, but might be needed, so great.

I walk to the edge of the hill and only look back one more time to say, "I want you all with me. But if you can't uphold the moral standards you wish others to have, how can you not consider yourselves hypocrites? And as for the soldiers here, how can you consider yourselves  _just_?"

And then I leave them, to tend the woman bleeding all over a tree.

Ren is glad for the supplies when I set them next to him but the look in her eyes tells me that Qunari hearing is at least near as good as Elven hearing. And she caught maybe some of that, maybe all of it.

"What's your name?" I ask.

She inclines her head a little, struggling. "Ar…Ari…sala…"

"Arisala," I say. "Welcome to our camp for as long as you need to recuperate."

She groans, dropping her head.

"Is she alright?" I ask quietly as Ren continues to tend to her wounds.

"She's passed out from the blood loss and pain but she should survive." He says. "I've been meaning to ask you something," he continues.

"Ask," I invite. Ren so rarely asks things. He's been doing it more lately. Does that mean he's starting to trust me or just that he's more comfortable with his place here?

Either way. It's good.

"Why 'The Justicars'?" he asks. "Of all the names you could've chosen, an old word for a Justiciary office that no longer exists…"

"I hope it'll remind every single one of them who they are and what they're supposed to represent every time they have to say it," I reply. "Also where I'm from there's a fictional story with Justicars in it. They go by a very strict code of honor and ethics. That's kind of what I'm hoping to achieve. So it's a good goal to shoot for."

He makes a noise, like a huff under his breath. "For every normal answer you give you have to give a strange one, too."

"Just who I am," I shrug and grin. "Now…I forget, how far out are we from Haven?"

"Few days now," he replies. "We should be able to help her heal enough she'll be able to split off from us by then. Maybe even before. These wounds are grievous but with magic she'll recover quickly. Especially as I suspect she'll likely help the process along herself." He eyes the staff on the other side of her body. "She hasn't let go, even unconscious."

"She's probably Tal'Vashoth," I reply. "Or at least was trained by Tal'Vashoth. I mean…I haven't seen a single Qunari mage among the circle mages."

I remember some obscure piece of information about Qunari being captured by the circle and…  _experimented_  on. But I can't remember if it was a headcanon that got passed around or if it was a real codex entry…

"Probably for the best," Ren says. "They'd probably be treated with more caution and fear than all the rest. It's better to die fighting than live like that."

"Some people would prefer to live like that and find a way to fight from within," I reply. A little lost in my thoughts. "But I don't think they give the Qunari an option."


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for physical abuse, mentions of physical abuse and emotional distress portrayed by the main character that reflects the subject.

I probably should've brought someone with me.

After all, I can't fight worth shit and if I'm discovered before I do what I need to do- well. Then I won't have even done what I went in for.

But we got here a little later than I thought. The Divine is already here.

I have to see if the Wardens- if Corypheus -got here a little early, or if I'm later than I thought.

So I'm playing the part of a servant. I went straight to Threnn, in threadbare clothes and told her someone had stolen my uniform so I'd need a new one I'd be happy to pay for.

I was worried the quartermaster would be someone different, but apparently I had nothing to be worried about.

It didn't take long for me to get into the Temple, telling everyone at the door that I was assigned there but didn't know where I was needed. I was to report to whoever was in charge.

Never thought my usual air of constant dissociation would come in handy for convincing a bunch of guardsmen I was just an exhausted, out of it servant. But hey, it worked.

Been a while since I've been like that, though. Ever since coming to Thedas, I've had to be on my toes. In the moment. And for the most part, that's been…so great. But I can remember why I slipped into that state of mind.

Everything was terrible.

"Ya drop those plates and ye'll have lashes!" the head servant barks at the rest of us. "We need ta have this room ready for the Divine's dinner in no less than an hour. Which means ya gotta work fast  _and_  careful!"

I really hate this place. After being the Commander of a growing military force for a few weeks, being a servant is excruciating. Not because of the lack of respect, I expected that. Not even because of the shouted abuse and threatened physical abuse- no I expected that too.

It's the worst mostly because I'm  _terrible_  at everything they've tried to get me to do. I've somehow gotten through by the skin of my teeth but I'm exhausted, I feel…drained…

And I know I'm going to screw up sooner or later. Which will lead to me getting 'disciplined' I.E. beaten- and then who knows if I'll have the energy to do what I need to do.

I barely have that energy now, as I place doilies and forks and spoons in their correct positions on the table. It wasn't hard to figure out how they went, after surveying the others doing it.

"Ah!" a girl down the line trips and nearly drops her plate, but rolls with the fall to keep it in one piece, allowing her body to take the full impact. "Augh."

I step out of the line to walk over and help her up, as it seems she's frozen in pain for a moment- but apparently that's a no-no.

"Get back in line!" the head servant almost seems to appear out of nowhere behind me and I feel-

"Ack!" I go down on my hands and knees, in complete shock at the fact that he just…

I knew 'discipline' meant beatings, but I always thought that was limited to lashes or smacking for back-talk. Never occurred to me to worry about getting punched in the back for trying to help a fellow servant.

Shouldn't be surprised.

"On your feet and back in line!" he shouts. "And you, get that plate on the table!"

It doesn't occur to me until after I've moved back into place that I probably just saved that girl a beating. If he punched me for just trying to help her, he probably would've hit her for falling in the first place.

Feels a lot like back when I was a kid, screwing up even bigger than my brothers so they wouldn't get yelled at. But at least then I knew what I was doing. This time I got hit and I wasn't expecting it.

As much of a piece of crap as my stepfather was, he never exactly hit me. Mom used to pop me in the mouth when I was being 'smart', which discouraged me from speaking at all. And my dad…well, it's really difficult to get past that block in my mind that doesn't consider spankings to be the same as beatings.

It is, but I was told for so long that it wasn't…

Now as we all step away from the table and wait for the other servants to put the food out on their trays and light the candles…I wonder if I'm in shock.

It's been  _years_  since anyone hit me in any kind of domestic setting. I can feel myself shutting down, shutting  _off_. But I can't shut off.

I need to be in the moment, be  _alert_.

So I bite the inside of my cheek until the pain in my back has all but melted away and a new rush of endorphins has left me feeling a little cool and numb in both places.

It's an old trick I used for pain management when I was younger, so I didn't have to take actual meds from my grandma. She never seemed to have enough. When my teeth went bad or I twisted my ankle or anything- I would squeeze different parts of my body with my nails, bite down on my arm or my cheek or something- and it would help.

So when something hurts, it's always my first instinct to cause a sharper pain somewhere else to drown out the pain signals from the first injury. But it hasn't been necessary for a while now. I guess I'm relearning all kinds of things since I came to Thedas.

"Alright, everyone out and get started on the dishes!" the head servant shouts.

I still can't remember his name. Don't really need to.

We walk in straight lines out different doors, all far from the entry point of the Divine and all the people sitting down to sup with her this evening.

Namely a bunch of Mage and Templar leaders. Not anyone whose names I'd recognize except…

Well. It'll have to wait till some other time, if I'm going to get through this.

"Um…" I pause on my way to one of the sinks and turn back to face the voice behind me.

It's the girl from the dining room. "Something wrong, hon?" I feel protective of all the servants here, but this girl is so small. Not only short but  _skinny_. So skinny I know she probably isn't eating much.

She bites her lip and looks up at me, wide-eyed. "I'm…I'm sorry you got hit…thank you for trying to help me."

Her skin is a light brown and her ears are tucked under a cap but I can tell they're pointed now that I'm looking closer. Her accent is sort of…Antivan?

"We're family, by virtue of the trials we go through together. The same as a company of soldiers," I reply. "I will  _always_  help you."

She seems like she doesn't know what to say to that. So I smile and grasp her shoulder, squeezing a little before letting go.

And then it's time to get back to work.

God, I hate doing the dishes.


	32. Navette POV, Ben POV

"So when do we leave for Haven?" one of my soldiers-  _my_  soldiers -asks me.

"The Commander instructed we get as many mages out of Redcliffe as possible. She seemed to think the Conclave would be the catalyst for great change. No matter how it ends, she believes they'll have need of safe harbor, so we're to give it to them." I reply. "We'll wait at least another week. If something big happens, we'll extract what mages we can and move  _then_."

Never would have thought myself the type to do a Templar's job, of protecting Mages. Or protecting the world  _from_  them. But…if this is the sort of thing we must do to ensure the future of our order and cement our place in Thedas, then it is necessary and I will do it.

I was given my own company of soldiers, though I've been told the hierarchy still places me below Miles…this is my opportunity to show what a good leader I can be. How I can rise to the occasion.

Second Lieutenant…and soon, a Lieutenant in my own right, I hope.

As long as I'm serving the Commander.

I wasn't certain about her at first, or if her intentions were even what she said they were. But after so long spent in her service and seeing what she would ask of us, I am finally settled. She may be a bit of a sneak and a liar at times but it's always in service of the greater good. I can get behind that.

"Should we begin preparing things for departure, to be safe?" he asks. "In case sooner is sooner than we think?" He's a bit green, eager to please.

"We all have our…go-bags," I reply. She called them that. Go-bags. Seemed to think it was the proper term for it, like it was a common thing to have where she's from. And I wonder again how she knows of such things when she was never a Soldier before. "We can grab them and leave everything else in camp. If you're worried about leaving something behind, keep it on your person."

"I'm worried we'll be leaving behind a lot of our provisions scattered around camp if someone doesn't secure them," he explains. "But I need an order from someone important to get people to listen and give them over to put on the wagon."

( _Navette, listen very carefully to me. Half the job of being a leader is listening to your men. Sometimes they'll have good ideas, things you didn't consider. Commend them for their quick thinking and effort. Listen to them. If you think it might be a bad idea, then explain why. Converse, engage. Just don't be a tyrant, stomping around telling everyone what to do._ )

It  _would_  be a good idea to have everything essential ready to leave at a moment's notice. In fact, didn't Nik usually keep the provisions in one place and hand out food only around mealtimes? Why are they scattered to begin with?

"What provisions are scattered exactly and why?" I ask, turning my full attention to him.

He stands a bit straighter. "Ah well…we've got lots of new people, who…have their own stock."

"And why are you tryin' to steal their stock, then?" I ask suspiciously.

Paling, he hurries to explain himself. "Not stealin', Serah! I want to store it away so we don't lose it. I heard tell the commander pools our food together to feed everyone when rations are thin. If I could just get them to hand over what they've got, everyone'd be a lot less likely to starve."

I cross my arms and think about that. Seems like a good argument but the Commander is against anyone making anyone do something they don't want. I mean besides making them stop being assholes, or saying words that she thinks are offensive. All that has to do with stopping people from doing some kind of harm, though.

Withholding food could cause harm, but I think the Commander would…do somethin' sneaky. To make 'em think it was their idea.

Ugghhh, I wish Miles were here. I haven't the sneakiness required for this.

It occurs to me that that's probably why the Commander won't put me in charge of more than a single squad. She believes sneakiness is necessary to be a good leader and survive and win wars.

She had a point, about how if you're smaller and weaker, you've gotta go for the sneaky way to do things to win and live. I just always hated the way that Ben and other rogues-

BEN!

"Give me some time to figure out how to do this and we'll see what we can do," I tell the soldier.

He salutes, then turns about-face and walks away.

I survey the camp, looking for any trace of my fool cousin's presence and don't find anythin' till I start asking around.

Went off hunting, they say. Probably left at the break of dawn as he's wont to do. I won't be able to find him, he's the tracker, not I.

But at least now when he gets back I'll have someone I can ask about the sneaky shite. It might be cheating, as I'd not thought of it myself, but I can't exactly just pull a brilliant idea out of a mind with no sneaky material, now can I?

* * *

 

Ben POV

I've been turning this offer over in my mind for a while now. Wondering if it's really the best I'm ever going to get, or be.

Leaving with Navvy, seeking out the Blades, it was supposed to be…an adventure. Fun, excitement, danger.

Well, I got the danger part. Even a little bit of the excitement. But when it came time to do something about the heinous deeds I'd been forced into, I almost refused. If it hadn't been for Navette pushing me into it, we'd still be trapped where we were before.

The Commander freed us and now we can atone for the things we did. Problem is, I don't really feel like it was my fault. I was a weak man being threatened into doing things he hated.

And yet no sympathy for that? For the things I had to do with my own hands, against my own will?

( _Truth is, Ben. I don't trust you in a position of power. You'd be too afraid to do something to make people dislike you. Navette is workable, she'll learn to be what she needs to lead someday, but you are more of a lone agent type, I think. So be my agent and I can promise you fun, exciting jobs with little risk. In the meantime, hunt for my people out there, feed them and teach them if they ask to know how to use a bow or a knife or how to track a trail. If you choose not to undertake this new position, you can still keep your old one, or leave as you like._ )

I suppose I can't blame anyone for assuming I'm a coward. After all, I've behaved like one.

No one really knows what was going through my mind when we were plotting against  _him_ , though. I'm the only one who knows what I was thinking.

And the truth of it is- Nik's victory was a  _fluke_. It was a shock, to everyone. No matter that they'd tried to give her every advantage, no matter that she'd set everything in motion. No matter that they'd cheated behind the scenes.

Because in the end, Nik should have lost. It made no sense that she won. Even with all her advantages, it was still…

And yet she did. She seemed convinced that she could, the entire time. Never showing a hint of doubt as to the outcome.

Oh she had plans to enact in the event of her death, to protect the others and myself, but they were all said with the air of someone who doubted you'd have to use the information they were imparting on you.

Perhaps she's just overconfident. But I don't think it cowardly that I knew I was no match for  _him_. That I knew everyone would turn on us if we weren't successful and that everything hinged on a mere stranger with no training in swordplay or even weaponless combat.

If Navette had been the one to challenge him, or even Hermea- but then Nik wouldn't have a loyal following, would she?

Suppose the only question is, did she mean to imply none of us would have been suitable for that job…or did she know we would be a better choice than her and that is why she did not ask?

"Ben!" Navette walks up to me as I re-enter camp.

There are a few rabbits and birds slung over my shoulder, but I drop them in front of the first tent on the outer ring. It's where they salt and preserve the meats and jar all the vegetables and fruits and berries we find in the woods. One of the mages quickly begins dividing the animals up and plucking feathers while another takes the rabbits to begin skinning them.

"What is it?" I ask tiredly, slumping into camp with the weight of exhaustion pulling me down. Thinking, hunting and hours of walking have tired me out to the point I might just fall over if I don't find my bedroll and tent soon.

She stop before me and takes stock of my appearance. "Come, we will speak in your tent."

Thank the Maker.

It isn't a long walk, as we're all mostly in the outer one to two rings of camp. Warriors on the outside, leaders on the outside. We're supposed to protect everyone with our lives, and our screams if it comes to that.

I dislike that. Navette doesn't.

Navette opens the flap and I follow her inside, tossing down my equipment and slowly removing my armor a piece at a time as she flops on my bedroll and begins to speak.

"I need your advice," she says.

"Oh my advice is worth something now?" I ask as I sit to begin cleaning the metal bits of my armor. Can't let rust set in. "I thought I was a coward and a cad."

"You are," Navette snaps. "But if you would actually lend me your ear you might become something more."

"More than what, Navette?" I ask her and look up to lift my brows in her direction. "A man who'd rather do as he is told than die? Who would rather wait for an opportunity to run than fight- and survive another day? You call it cowardice, but all I can see is you'd have died without me to hold you back from attacking him head on.  _Nik_  should've died. It was a mistake. An accident. Just because I didn't foresee it, that does not make me a coward."

She frowns and crosses her arms at me, "that is, my Cousin, the very definition. Being unwilling to die for your principles is a very cowardly thing indeed."

"I never said I wouldn't die for my principles," I snap back. "Only that I ask for a more sure fight that they may be carried out, rather than buried and forgotten a moment after I am gone!"

Taking a moment to breathe, I turn and face my cousin more fully to tell her my thoughts with all the seriousness I can muster. "Have you thought about what would have happened had Nik died? Her plans for afterward were basically 'trust the mage and run'. And if he'd have hunted us, what then? We keep trusting the mage and keep running until his fellows had killed us because there would've been no Nik to save us from the poison smoke? Or perhaps if we'd gotten farther we then die of starvation or perhaps some random bandit attack on the road? There were only four of us!"

"Hermea might have left too, whatever that's worth," Navette grumbles. "Two warriors, an archer and a mage would've been able to stave off starvation and adequately protect ourselves."

"Do you  _really_  believe that?" I ask her. "Knowing what you believe of me, I can't even conceive that you might think me capable enough to watch your flank in a fight. And I shouldn't have had to, either. It wasn't a fight we would've chosen for ourselves, but one that would happen to us."

"Fights happen to people, Ben!" She jumps to her feet and I follow, unthinkingly. "What if the Orlesians declared full war on Ferelden and tried to take it back? Eh? What would you do? Run and hide while all your family and friends and loved ones were conquered or killed!?"

"Of course not!" I shout. "I would fight for my country, same as any man in any army! BUT I WILL NOT FIGHT A LOSING BATTLE FOR A-"

I cut myself off, realizing that I'm shouting. I take a step away from Navette and breathe. "Get out of my tent. I don't want to help you, and I can't believe you'd even ask after everything you've said to me, or about me."

Sitting down and facing my armor now, I pick up another piece and start to polish it.

I hear Navette stomp out, but pay it no mind.

I have armor to polish and arrows to make, daggers to sharpen.


	33. Nik POV, Dahlia POV

"We haven't seen anyone suspicious, but we'll let you know," Tevea says and nods. "I had no idea the Divine was under so much threat. I knew this would likely be dangerous for her, but for anyone to attack the Divine, it's…inconceivable!"

"I'm sure it's not someone who worships the Maker or considers her sacred at all, so there's that," I reply with a small smile. "Just be sure to look out for anyone out of the ordinary. Even Templars, Mages, or any other prestigious officers of any kind that show up out of nowhere and seek an audience with the Divine."

"I will let you know, commander-" she halts and corrects herself. "Nik."

"Just be sure not to slip up in front of anyone and I don't mind," I flick my wrist. "And if you do, just pretend exhaustion and confusion and excuse yourself. No big deal."

"What if something _does_  happen to the Divine?" she asks nervously. "What'll we do?"

"We'll do what people always do in times of adversity. Adapt and survive," I reply. "Besides…what is she actually doing? She's mostly just a figurehead for the Chantry's power, isn't she? It's the belief of the people that she's holy which empowers her. So I guess if anything happens to her, they'll just find a new target."

"I can't  _imagine_  that," she says. Subtly horrified. "The Divine was chosen by the Chantry and her power must come from the Maker, mustn't it?"

"If that is what you believe, that is the case. I believe differently, but that's mostly because of my…unique perspective." Thedas itself works mostly in reality with flashes of Fade Stuff here and there. And the Fade Stuff works how you  _expect_  it to work. That's part of it all. Your unconscious mind, subconscious desires- your thoughts and feelings about something. It shapes everything. "Funny thing about religions is, they can be interpreted any number of ways. Which is usually why we even have priests and such, to decipher the true message. And even then sometimes there's contention over something. There is no one way that is true and good with Religion, not really."

She tilts her head and seems to think about it for a moment, but then shakes her head and gestures back at the supply closet's door behind her. "You think we should be getting back?"

"Yeah, before we're caught." I'd only decided this morning to alert Tevea as to my mission here. She's sweet, hard-working and seems trustworthy enough that I can at least get her help as another pair of eyes and ears, if nothing else. She's also an elf, so she can hear further and see better in the dark than I can. If she glimpses something or hears something that I wouldn't- well, let's just say she'll probably see or hear something before I ever will.

And with her asking others she thinks might be of some help to also watch out, I've now got at least five or six other sets of eyes and ears. That's how many names she gave me, anyway. I told her to make sure only to tell people she thinks would believe her and only once she's absolutely sure they won't rat out my mission to someone in charge.

If I get caught by somebody before I can save the Divine, I'm doubly screwed. I'll die in the explosion.

"The Head Servant wants us to clean and replace the bedsheets in all the rooms today. Do you know how?" she asks.

"I know how to remove and replace bedsheets but I'm afraid I'm out of practice with the laundry. I learn fast, though." I smile. Still dreading the moment someone asks me to do the  _dishes_. God I hate doing the dishes. Give me laundry any day.

She smiles shyly back and turns to open the door. "Don't worry, I'll show you how."

* * *

 

Dahlia POV

"I did not rebel against the Circles, only to be trapped in a  _new_  institution." Fiona has  _barely_ entertained the thought of joining the Commander's new order. And has only engaged as much as she is now because I have kept asking. "My people will have their own lives, or I will die trying to give it to them."

I always imagined this woman as being larger than life. And she does have a certain presence, I will not deny that. But she is so…small. Thin and short, with slightly curling black hair and light brown skin. Her eyes a light shade of...green? Or perhaps a subtle blue. Maybe even gray. I think it depends on how the light hits.

"But that's what I'm  _telling_ you, she wants to  _give_  them the choices they don't have!" I burst a bit.

She startles at my vehemence and gives me a very unimpressed look.

"Well you haven't been listening to me!" I snap. "How do you expect me to react when you finally seem to be hearing the words coming out of my mouth? What Nik proposes isn't an institution to hold you, it's a framework through which we might  _protect_  ourselves. Using the laws of this land to do so."

"Being beholden to an  _order_  means there will be rules, requirements-" Fiona gestures grandly. "So what might be asked of us within this order?"

"To protect the people," I reply. "And not the way the Templars or City Guardsmen do. Unselfishly, for no reward. And not in the service of Nobility. Specifically trained and specially instructed to help those like  _us_. Elves and Dwarves, Mages…whoever else needs it."

"And how exactly does she intend to enforce these rules and guidelines?" She tents her fingertips on the desk before her. "Another order meant to check our power?"

"No!" I make a gesture of my own, and it's much more filled with frustration than hers. "That's what I've  _been telling you_. We would check our  _own_  power. Mages in charge of mage power abuses. Elves to judge elves, Dwarves to judge Dwarves." I explain and wrap my arms around myself. "We can't have  _open_  freedom yet. They'll either cage us again or kill us. Or we'll wage a centuries-long war that won't end well for either side. For now what we have to do, what is most advantageous for us- is to start the process by gaining our freedom-"

I unwrap one hand to make a sweeping gesture. "While providing the illusion that we are still under someone else's control."

"It will not be an illusion," she argues. "We will be under  _her_  control, can't you see that?"

And I smile with triumph because I have an answer to that, too. "No. We won't. The Justicars will work in  _cells_. And the only time they will ever unite is in the face of a threat that requires them. And when that time comes, we will choose our own leader. And Nik has promised that she won't be in the running after the war is decided. She wants to  _retire_  after having started everything. Hand the reigns over to the people who will run the individual cells."

I swallow roughly at the skeptical look on Fiona's face.

"And until the war is decided, she is in power over us," she says.

"Not in power. Leading," I reply. "She's given us the option of not following her orders if we think them unjust. She has promised no punishment for desertion."

"Well that all sounds very  _pretty_ ," Fiona replies. "But you'll forgive me if the promises of a non-mage human woman to the poor and desperate does not move me."

"If you don't believe, that's fine. But allow your people who do, to go." I insist. "Even if it ends badly, this is a choice, and you have to let them make it."

"I believe a paltry few already left with your Commander," she says as she pulls a scroll out of her desk. "But none more went, and none more have requested leave from me- and they are free to do as they like. You wish to imagine that I am keeping them here, but I am not."

"You  _are_ ," I reply. "Because you lead them and they don't want to leave you. They've been taught to follow and obey. You have to give them permission or they won't feel like they can go."

"I am  _not_  holding them here," she says. Standing, staring me down. Clutching the scroll in her fist tightly with offense. "If they choose to stay out of Loyalty, that is their choice." Her head dips as she stares into my eyes. "And you must let them make it."


	34. Ren POV, Miles POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gotta set up a lot of shit in a short amount of time, but just to let everyone know, not all of these things from other POV's are happening on the same days or after the same days as the Nik POV's.
> 
> These are moments stolen from before and after Nik leaves Redcliffe and arrives at Haven. Interludes before the main event, and also to set up the characters in the places they'll be when it happens.

( _Wait just outside Haven. Either I'll come back, or I won't and something bad will have happened._ )

Great. Wonderful. I'll just sit here like a good Elf and wait for your return then, shall I?

( _If I don't come back, the war might begin with oomph again because of what's going on at the Conclave. You might get hurt if you stay. Go find the other Justicar pockets, consolidate them and band together for protection. Stay out of sight. Don't let the Chantry find you. Use magic if you have to, to hide yourselves away. Just don't get caught._ )

As if that was ever part of the plan.

( _Until I do come back, Consider Ren in charge of this Cell. Just like Navette is in command of hers. Miles still has Authority to command all the Cells but until he comes back, listen to Ren._ )

What exactly have  _I_  done to engender such confidence in my leadership skills? At least Miles is a clever schemer, what am I? An Elven mage in a ratty old robe.

"Sir?" Elliot prods my shoulder a bit to get my attention. "What should we do about the problem?"

"Which one?" I ask. Tired and completely lacking motivation to care.

"The most recent one," he says and gestures toward our newest member. "She hasn't left yet."

"She isn't well enough to leave yet," I correct him. "And we all know what the Commander thinks of people trying to oust her because she's a Qunari."

"Vashoth," comes a correction from the cot in the corner of my tent. "And I can go, anytime."

"No. You can't." I insist. "Your leg will crumple right underneath you, you'll be a sitting duck. We're too near Haven for you to go hobbling around in full view with a mage staff."

She rolls her eyes, "I've gotten around on worse injuries."

"And made them worse for the effort, no doubt," I snap. "She isn't going until I'm certain she can both run and defend herself without getting further injuries just from the action itself."

Elliot nods, "yes I know. But those people out there are afraid of Qunari, Vashoth, whatever you want to call her or them. They've only ever heard tales passed on through Tevinter. Whoever or whatever she is, they're scared of her."

"Reassure them I'll be on my way just as soon as my leg is repaired," she speaks lowly and with purpose. "I have a mercenary company of my own to get back to."

"And until then, they should remember the Commander doesn't look kindly on those who deny healing to someone on the basis of their race." That is something the Commander and I both agree very strongly on. Everyone should have access to healing. Medicine. Treatment of any kind.

Even if I don't feel that comfortable with a…Vashoth, so close to us. I have come upon Tal'Vashoth before. I don't know if leaving off the 'Tal' actually means anything but no two Tal'Vashoth bands of mercenaries are the same so far as I can recall. There is no guarantee she isn't dangerous.

Also no signs that she  _is_ , either.

Until she proves herself to be, I think we should do as the Commander instructed and treat her like any other member of camp.

( _When she's well enough to move around but not leave, she might get antsy and want something to do. Let her do things she's familiar with. Things that won't hurt her. Things that might make people see her as a regular, average person, just like them._ )

Questioning the Commander's methods is allowed but I usually don't feel the need to. It's obvious what she's looking to accomplish if you think about it for a moment.

Well, usually. Sometimes she's just…incomprehensible. She doesn't spell things out for you and then seems confused when you don't know what she was getting at. Not meanly but you get the feeling you're missing something simple.

Infuriating that, when you're trying to ask a question and she has no idea how to answer because you don't know any of the words she uses to explain.

"Tell the hunters to bring the night's kills to me," I tell Elliot. "You up for skinning something?" I ask her.

She sits up a bit straighter in bed and inclines her head. Horns brushing the tent behind her. "If it means doing something other than nothing. I can also tan the hide and turn the offal into bait to catch bigger beasts. As well as use the bone and marrow for other things."

Nik was always upset we couldn't do more with the pieces we had than eat the meat, tan the hide and throw the rest to the wolves. Though she seemed to take some consolation in the idea that a starving animal might benefit from our waste.

The commander is strange, I will never argue that. But she is the kind of strange all people can get used to and live with. Compassionate but not to the point of foolishness. Happy to help anyone in need but suspicious enough to check that the person isn't a threat first.

Even with the Qunari- Vashoth. Even with her, she had me and other mages scan the area with spells to be certain she was the only one left alive before approaching her.

Sometimes I believe I know the Commander, know her mind and methods and morals. And then she'll do something unexpected. Something that makes me question everything I thought I knew.

Suppose I shouldn't assume I know  _anything_  until she stops surprising me.

* * *

 

Miles POV

"I don't know," I say. Curling my hands together in my lap around a clay mug of tea. "I want to travel, see everything, work under the Commander. But…part of me has always wanted to belong somewhere. Somewhere I could come home to. I thought this could be the Commander and the motley band of Blades- the Justicars."

"And so you are torn between a wish for family and community and that which would give you the most freedom, disconnected from those things." The Keeper observes. "Many of our young hunters-to-be also have this problem. This dilemma. The problem lies not in what you want, but what you perceive."

"What is the problem with my perception, then?" I ask. "Because as far as I can tell, being tied down to one place is the same, no matter how you look at it."

"Tethers can be any length," the Keeper replies. "Regardless, you are not tied down by anyone but yourself. It will not be a collar around your neck, but an anchor to hold you in the storm. That is all that is offered by being part of a clan. I have had many wanderers come home after years of searching and exploring only to settle in and have their families or live out their retirements, giving their wisdom to the next generation."

"So it wouldn't be unprecedented, then," I say. Hopefully, though I try not to be. Damn me and my need for this. Damn my stubbornness and wanderlust too, while I'm at it.

"Not unprecedented, no." She speaks slowly and with deliberation. "We would however, require a few things to make the arrangement worthwhile, otherwise you are simply a traveler claiming to be part of our clan."

"What would these things be?" I ask.

"Come back to the Clan when calamity might befall it or when we have great need of you. Answer the call to  _Arlathvhen_. And of course you must learn of the gods, and be given your  _Vallaslin_  once you have performed the rite of passage." She lists. "And if you've any mage children, they must be raised to be the first or second of the clan."

"I don't know what that means," I flick my wrist. "I know the first is who's going to succeed you, but what's a second?"

"First, second and third are the positions a mage occupies within Dalish clans. Leaders. Healers. If there are too many, then they are sent to a clan without a first or may even be raised to start their own." She explains. "Any other questions?"

"Too many to really count," I mutter. "Who are these gods? I've heard of some of them, in passing. Heard things from the Hahren of the Alienage…"

"Mythal is the great mother," the Keeper explains. "She has dominion over justice and the moon."

I remember that one. The moon part is new though.

"Elgar'nan is the father, god of vengeance and the sun." She says, while gesturing at the sun shining in from the Aravel's doorway. "Dirthamen is the god of secrets. Falon'Din the god of the Afterlife. Ghilan'nan the halla mother, Andruil the Huntress."

Some of these I think I've heard of from the Hahren, but they only vaguely tickle my memory.

"There there is June, the Craftsman. And Sylaise the Hearthkeeper." She pauses then. Seems to draw strength for something. "And lastly…Fen'Harel. The Trickster and Betrayer."

"I don't think I've ever heard of him," I say and frown. "The rest, I at least have a familiarity with their names, but I dunno if the Hahren ever mentioned Fen'Harel."

She seems to go a bit pale. "Foolish. Fen'Harel dislikes being ignored and forgotten more than being ridiculed and insulted. You must never forget to pay tribute to the one who may cause the greatest trouble simply on a whim to sate his boredom."

"Why do you worship someone so terrible?" I ask.

Her intake of breath is sharp and speaks of fear. "The alternative is to ignore or turn our backs on him. He does not like that. And bringing down the wrath of the Dread Wolf on our people is the very last thing any Dalish ever wishes to do."

' _A god that throws a hissy fit when no one pays attention to him. How can you even be scared of that? He sounds like one of the Noble brats who'd run around doing whatever they wanted and complained your yelping was too loud and hurt their ears after they'd just yanked yours almost clear off your head._ '

I take a deep breath and sigh slowly. "I'm not saying yes…but I'll think about it. I have to report back to Nik before I can do anything."

"Your Commander must be fierce to command such loyalty," Keeper Ledin says.

And I have to cough to cover a snort because while 'fierce' is an apt description of my Commander…

I can tell she's imagining Nik as tall and muscular with a sword in her hand and maybe a shield on her arm. Or perhaps a rogue with a bow in hand or maybe even a fearsome mage.

But what Nik is…I don't know what to call it. Scheming, compassionate, hot-headed but slow to act…she decides on a course of action in a snap judgment but then could take weeks or maybe even months to implement it if given the chance.

I have a feeling everything that happened with Andras happened a lot faster than she was comfortable with. The fact that she could just…modify her plans and keep going anyway…

"She  _is_  fierce, I will give you that."


	35. Ben POV, Nik POV, Dahlia POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are getting more exciting...

Navette doesn't understand, will never understand.

She was raised with rules in place for her conduct. I wasn't. Oh sure, we're noble down here in Ferelden in terms of bloodline and our ties to Orlais keep us important, but my family…we were never rich and never ruled anything. We were a simple family, and I used to hate it.

As it is now, I still hate the thought of going back. But also can't stand the thought of staying here. With Navette and Nik and the rest of them.

I know something lurks behind that warm smile of hers, I just don't know what it is, it just. It gets my back all up against a wall that isn't even there. And Navette…Navette stopped caring what happens to me the day I tried to stop them all from going against Andras.

The both of us are going through the motions, trying to be like we were- but it's just not possible.

My cousin thinks I'm a coward and _I_  think  _she's_  a hotheaded arse.

Nothing will ever be the same between us. And that's why I have to leave.

"You can't do this!" Navette chases us down the side of the road and into the woods. "Ben!"

"It's already done, Navvy," I call back over my shoulder. "Tell the Commander I took another position."

Only five people decided to join me in the end, but that's fine. A company of spies is already an oddity, having a small number of them just makes sense, in the end.

We have a mage, even. A mage, two Elves from Redcliffe who are good with a bow and two humans who are trained in swords and daggers respectively.

And me.

I'm not the leader type, but an organizer? I can be an organizer. I can line up jobs, collect payments from wealthy employers and train all of them to be as good a tracker as I am. Our skills will merge as we teach each other and soon we'll be the most versatile group of spies there are.

We won't be assassins, I couldn't…stomach that sort of job. But we will kill when it is necessary to defend ourselves and  _only_  then.

"Ben!" I can hear she's stopped and she's just shouting my name now, hoping I'll come crawling back.

But I'm never going back. I can't. Going back would mean I really am a coward and that I can't follow through on anything.

"S'gonna be alright, mate," the Rogue- what was her name? Avery? "My family didn't understand how I didn't wanna be a great warrior either."

The warrior laughs and it almost covers Navette's voice calling out for me. "I fit the Warrior bit, but not the soldier bit. I'm better suited to bodyguarding and armed escorts than war. Father didn't like that." Wasn't his name something like…Marron…right?

The two elves walking with us, are strangely silent. But I suppose they can't really relate to familial expectations of greatness. In the Alienage, they'd be expected to do their job and keep their head down.

I can still remember the Alienage in the village nearby. Separated from the rest of the village with a waist-high stone wall. Didn't really keep anyone in or out, it was just a reminder that  _that_  is where the other people lived.

So I wonder… "You two, eh…Vaya and Dixen," I address them. "What did you always want to be?"

They exchange glances. And Vaya answers for them both. "Dreams are dangerous in an Alienage, Serah. You only ever expect to survive to tomorrow, and even that isn't certain."

"Well, maybe this will change that. You'll have the skill, know-how and coin to do anything you want." I encourage. "Do you have any ideas, at least?"

Dixen speaks then, in a low tone. "I was a woodworker. I'd like to learn blacksmithing to make blades. Instead of little wooden ones for kids."

Vaya seems encouraged by this. "Perhaps I'd like to learn embroidery. I know I never want to clean another chamber pot for a fussy Noblewoman again."

We  _all_  shiver at that thought.

"I  _wanted_  to be a warrior," the mage says in the space between. "But the way I know how to fight is with a very weak fireball. I'm better suited to healing. I'd still like to learn a sword style, though. Just to know it."

It's then I realize we're far enough that Navette's voice no longer carries to us. And I feel…something. Deep inside, that tells me this was the right choice. The both of us need to live our lives. And now we can, without obligation to each other.

' _Be safe Navette. I hope someday I can show you what I've become._ '

* * *

 

Nik POV

'Nothing strange on my end' Tevea's friends report to me. One after another. 'Not even important Noble guests, really. Just Mages and Templars butting heads and the Divine stepping in to mediate.'

I know the Gray Wardens and Corypheus are close to making their move. I don't know how close, but.

"When the time comes, we have to find a way to evacuate everyone." Tevea and I are in the broom closet again, rearranging things so as to look busy if anyone stumbles upon us. "I have ideas but they could all go wrong somehow."

"Well I've one, if you think it could work," she offers timidly. "If the servants could get into everyone's rooms- I've got this powder that will irritate their skin and give them a rash. We'll spread the word that there's an infectious disease and-"

"But infectious diseases mean quarantine," I put a hand up in apology. "Sorry didn't mean to cut in- I think it could work, but you'd have to apply the powder only to people who'd be useful for defending the Divine. Like the Templars, for instance. Everyone else would be evacuated to get away from them."

"So we target people to put the dust in their drawers and everyone without a rash will be sent to Haven so we can isolate the sick. And…then what do we do?" she asks.

"We inform the Templars of the deception," I reply. "We begin by telling them there's a threat on the Divine's life, tell them we put itching powder into their clothes so they'd be left behind while everyone evacuated and tell them to go and save the Divine."

"What if they don't like that, though?" Tevea asks. "Or what if they try to kill us or lock us up?"

"Good point," I reply. "Maybe just tell them we heard the Divine calling for help."

"Then do we evacuate?" she asks.

"You do, yes. I'll have to take the Templars up the stairs and show them where we heard her calling out from." I tell her. "I'm counting on you to make sure everyone else is getting out because I will be far behind you and moving quickly."

"So you'll evacuate last? What if you get hurt?" she asks. "Who will help you?"

"Don't worry, if I get nicked by a sword or something, I can keep running. I've twisted ankles before and I'm able to get around good on them for the first hour or so after I injure them before they tighten up. It's not good for it, but it'd be worse to stop and get caught, right?" I smile.

She smiles back, reluctantly. "I wish you the best, Commander."

"Be safe, Tevea," I smile more warmly. "If anything happened to any of you, it would distress me. Be sure to tell Lady Nightingale what really happened. No one else. Just her, alright?"

She nods resolutely. "I will, my la- Nik."

I grin. "You only ever mess that up when we're alone, that's funny."

Her face flushes a warmer shade of brown as she ducks her head. "We should get back to work!"

* * *

 

Dahlia POV

"They are amassing, just outside the gates," Bann Teagan informs us. "They are demanding we release you to them."

"What do we do?" I turn to Fiona with a grave expression. "We can't ask these innocent people to shelter us when it might mean their deaths, but we can't just surrender either."

She seems lost in thought but her eyes sharpen after a moment and she steps forward to face Bann Teagan head-on. "We will face these Templars, but our fight will cover your people's escape. We will not ask you to fight, but we cannot surrender, as the young lady says. And as you were harboring mages until this moment, it is likely these Templars will not care that you handed us over. They may well come for you, regardless."

Bann Teagan nods once, then stands. "All due respect to your wisdom and experience, Grand Enchanter…but you won't stand a chance. All you have is your magic, and they can take that from you. Once that happens, you are left defenseless, while they have swords. If there is any fighting to be had, it will be with Redcliffe soldiers beside you. We can send the infirm, the children and the civilians away as we do battle."

"I appreciate your dedication to carrying out the King's order, my lord," Fiona replies. "But are you certain?"

"I am certain that the reason I agreed to shelter you was not only because the King asked me, and that I will not allow innocent refugees to come to harm under my care." He squares his shoulders. "Guards! Fetch my armor and begin evacuating the people- I don't care where you send them, so long as it's away from here. Then be ready to fight."

There's a loud hurrah in the hall and while I am a bit overcome at the thought that people are going to fight for and with us, because they believe it's right- I am present enough to remember-

"My Lord, Lady Nik would gladly shelter any refugees in Haven. She was to make camp there, and I'm certain they would be safer with the Justicars than they would be alone. We can send them along to Navette's detachment and they can escort them there."

The Bann thinks it over for a moment and then nods. "Very well, then. I expect your mistress to protect my people as if they were her own."

"I don't believe she knows another way, my lord," I answer. Very honestly. Nik seems the type to become protective of all who require defense. I saw it when she argued for us against her own men, and then again and again on our travels as we walked battlefields and fended off the wildlife.

"Now we must speak of our strategy," Fiona says. "Where would you have us, my lord?"

"I'm not entirely certain, Grand Enchanter," he replies. "Any suggestions as to where you would all work best?"

"Many of my people are skilled healers, not many of them have any combat experience," Fiona says. "A few are more familiar with casting spells that might augment your men's weapons and armor for a short time."

"I have a few ideas, actually," I cut in and they both glance over at me. "I am technically here as an envoy from the Justicars, not simply as a mage, so I believe I've the right to speak?"

"Indeed, any ideas you have could be helpful," Bann Teagan replies, turning to give me his full attention.

"Lady Nik had us doing these…strange exercises before we arrived. Things that tested our limits and…sort of forced us to think outside the usual Circle-approved methods of doing things." I speak slowly as I think back to it. "She had me growing trees at one point. As life magic is not my forte, it did not go well. But I was able to do it after several days of trying different approaches and I finally discovered a way to siphon energy and life force from the surroundings and put it into something else. I killed about four trees in order to grow just the one, but I believe-"

"What you speak of is a branch of dark magic almost akin to blood magic," Fiona interrupts me. "It is separated only by degrees."

"It's  _Entropy_  magic," I snap. "Which you damn well know I do. Do you imply something untoward about me simply because of my alignment?"

"I-" Fiona falters and her ears flicker downward and back just a bit. "My apologies, Lady Trevelyan. I had forgotten you were an Entropy mage."

"I notice you don't imply any sort of apology for assuming Entropy magic is evil," I say. "But we have more important things to argue over right now. I can pull energy from the Templars and supply it to the soldiers or the Mages, so long as I'm not silenced."

And then I resolutely turn to Bann Teagan again, determined not to lose my temper.

I've always been a little bit out of place in the Circle because of my specialization. The Templars watched me more closely, the mages didn't trust me…

"I believe if we count on the mages only being able to attack once each, the battle may go much better," I explain. "I will siphon the energy to the soldiers from somewhere in cover and they will meet the enemy head on in surges. They'll pull back and one wave of mages, hidden in cover somewhere else, will come out for one great combined attack of magic. I'd recommend Fire. Their shields can block the spells to some extent but an attack that great will at least singe them and maybe immolate a few. Then, we can pull them back, send the soldiers in again, and then so on and so forth."

The Bann is smiling just a little when I'm finished. "That Commander of yours has an eye for talent, I think. Yes, I believe your plan would work. We will keep healers stationed in one of the houses nearby, and take the injured there, but otherwise…" He turns to Fiona. "Ready all you can for battle. Those who cannot do anything useful in a fight or for healing…they should go with my people, Fiona."

She inhales a long breath and then releases it, eyes closed. When she opens them, she draws up to her full height and nods. "Very well. I do not like relying on the mercy of someone I do not yet know but I suppose we've no other choice."

I'm still going over 'that commander of yours' in my mind, though.

My Commander. My Lady.

Yes, I think so. I wonder when that happened?


	36. Chapter 36

"Okay, nobody panic. We've gone over this." I grasp Tevea's shoulder and squeeze, as she seems to almost be prone to fainting dead away right now and that would be dangerous for her. "Hey, somebody take Tevea with you when you go? I don't think she can make it on her own."

She looks like she wants to argue, but can't get the words out, but I know that look she's giving me is 'what about you'. So I answer the unspoken question.

"I'll be fine," I soothe. "I'm still gonna go with the plan, it'll just be alone at the first part now. Not a big difference."

"We've finished dusting the inside of all the Templar's armors," says one of Tevea's friends. What was his name…? Rael or something? "But we got it all over our hands and arms," he says.

"Grab a couple of the poultices and treat yourselves with some of that aloe- if it doesn't work, treat it with the poultices." I instruct. "When you get to Haven and Tevea informs the lady Nightingale that there's no real plague, it won't be a big deal if everyone sees your rashes, so you can go to a healer then if it still persists."

"Until then, wear long sleeves?" One of them asks, distractedly rubbing at their arm.

"Yes, and don't itch. You'll make yourselves bleed. Rubbing will just make it worse." I had them steal the Aloe from the Divine's private stash, as it's apparently a luxury item here. It grows in places like Rivain, Antiva and Tevinter, but not in Ferelden or the Free Marches.

"You all know your parts," the head cook is wringing his hands. "We've just got to play this right, and we'll all be out before they figure out what's going on."

"I still think this is a terrible idea," one of the servants mutters in the group and several others mutter their agreements.

"It probably is, but then what other options do we have, really?" I shrug and pop my hands up. "Stay here and die because you're just background noise to these kinds of people- collateral damage. Or run now without explanation and be chased because they think you stole something or did something or  _know_ something?"

"She's right, whatever's happening, if we don't do something we'll be blamed if we leave like we knew it was happening and said nothin'." 'Rael' supports me with a sweeping hand gesture. "So we wait till everyone starts noticing their rashes, then we take everyone and go, and say that a healer from Haven declared a quarantine. Then the Commander takes care of the rest."

"That's right, so…let's get to our stations, and try to be calm. Take it just one step at a time, and remember- don't tell any other servants about this. They might squeal on us, and then we're all screwed," I remind them.

"Who has access to the messages from here to Haven, again?" 'Rael' asks. Damn it I've gotta confirm that that's his name but I can't  _remember_  and asking right now would be kind of rude.

"I do," another servant raises their hand and says. "I'll make sure the fake note about the outbreak and quarantine are switched in instead of whatever response the head healer really sent. I just have to match the handwriting and names as much as I can and hope for the best."

"If any of us gets caught, that's it. We'll be hacked in two. No questions, none." Another says.

I've only got like five people in on this besides me and Tevea but they're all vital. They're also terrified.

"What's your job?" I ask them. "I remember it had something to do with escorting the wounded, right?"

"That's right," they reply.

"You'll be one of the first groups out," I say. "Even if I get caught, the rest of you will have been either long gone or at least out of the Temple by then."

"Something's been bothering me," the man in charge of making sure there are no mage stragglers suddenly bursts out. "If you're a mercenary, why don't you have any calluses or scars?"

"That's cause I'm not a mercenary." I reply. "I'm a Justicar. We don't work for coin. And I only recently began building my company in the past few weeks when I first learned of the threat to the Divine. I knew something was coming and I had to prepare for it, but those preparations didn't involve fighting or getting scars. Though I do have some, they're just small and in places you can't see."

"What  _did_  the preparations involve?" Tevea asks timidly.

"Making alliances, formal petitions and gathering recruits," I reply. "Also we freed a couple of camps of slaves from Tevinter slavers. I might have marks on my wrists where they bound me, come to think of it…" I reach down for my sleeve-

But Tevea stops me, "that's not necessary my lady."

Oh, right. That's supposed to be something traumatizing. It probably should've traumatized me. My brain shuts down anything like that, though. That's the reason I'm always so open and don't really care if everyone knows everything that's ever happened to me.

Knowing that doesn't make it go away, of course. And it doesn't help me emulate how real people would react to having memories that hurt them. My brain just scrubs it all away until all that's left is the vaguest suggestion of what happened, so I don't usually have that problem unless the stimuli is…powerful.

"Right. Anyway, if anyone has anymore questions, I'd be glad to answer them. I know you're risking a lot here. I want to save as many as possible, but I understand if you decide to save yourselves and run." I say. "These people wouldn't care about you if the situation was reversed, and I don't blame you if you're having second thoughts."

" _You_  care about us," Tevea says, seeming to regain some color. "That's enough for me."

"We'll do it, we just don't like it," 'Rael' explains. "Saying aloud how dangerous and shitty it is, sometimes makes it feel less so. Dunno why."

"Yeah I'm still in," says another.

Everyone chimes in with their agreement to go along with the plan and I smile, with a little bit of a tear in my eyes because…

Well, it's always surprising when people trust me. It's a new feeling and I like it.

And then it's time for everyone to get in their places. So we all stream out of the closet we'd been hiding in and head to our stations.

It doesn't take five minutes for the Templars to start whining and bug the head servant and the Scout in charge of the Ravens into sending a missive to the mages at their massive rash outbreaks.

It takes about thirty for the response to come back and our servant friend to change the message and burn the actual one.

Then about twenty minutes while the head servant instructs everyone to pick up and head for Haven while sweating and wringing his hands, obviously having been told to be silent about what's happening.

That doesn't last long though, as my people seed the rumors of an infectious disease and people start moving much more quickly.

I'm already down the hall from the room the Divine locked herself in with the Gray Wardens who came to parlay with her. She did so not five minutes ago, so this is good timing.

Pretending to sweep a pretty pristine floor is kind of ridiculous but if it gives me an excuse I can just say the head servant was punishing me. People would believe that.

We began to move when someone reported seeing a Gray Warden in the woods just outside the Temple, and Tevea thought I should know. She was surprised when it actually turned out to be who I was looking for though.

Calmed down a lot when I said they might've been coerced, lied to or somehow controlled- or possibly were just people in Warden armor.

Warden hero-worship is real and  _annoying_. Where was all this admiration when I was trekking Thedas as a Mage Warden trying kick your asses into shape? Also, when trying to convince someone that an individual who just happens to be a Warden might be doing something bad- you've gotta imply they've been coerced because no one can conceive of it ever happening.

Like, first of all. Anders was a Warden and he blew up a Chantry. Sophia Dryden tried to depose a king, or something. And whether or not those actions are actually good or bad, they're both things a Warden did that people would instantly decry when talking about anyone else.

Come to think of it, why doesn't anyone ever mention Anders to the Wardens in Inquisition? Strange.

When I hear the first noise of distress, I  _streak_  like a bolt of lightning down those stairs to the first contingent of itchy Templars I can find and shriek that the Divine is being attacked- I heard her calling out for help!

And as itchy as they are, you've gotta admit they moved pretty damn fast to get up there while the attack was still happening.

Groaning, gritting their teeth and running. It'd be super funny if I wasn't so sure we'd all blow up in a second.

' _The last lie I told to an ally was to you, Tevea, and I'm so sorry._ ' I rush up the stairs after the Templars and watch as they fight the Wardens that try to stop them from entering the room. Darting behind the silver-and-blue mind-controlled men, I stride into the room just as Corypheus prepares to sacrifice the Divine to unlock the Orb.

' _I won't be coming back._ ' I whisper in my mind as the Divine moves, knocking the Orb out of Corypheus's grip and sending it straight at me.

Grasping it in my left hand is all I can do. Stepping aside would only allow it to either shatter or find another target and that wouldn't be good for multiple reasons. I don't know what would happen in any scenario other than the one that happened.

So to be safe, I… _have_  to do this.

"Ahhh!" I don't realize it's me screaming until the ground rushes up to smack me in the knees.

And then everything is kind of exploding. But not like a bomb. It's like everything suddenly gets yanked inside out and-

' _Herald of Andraste, here I come. And I am going to_ _ **hate**_ _every single second of it._ '


	37. Dahlia POV, Miles POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Those of you who read across fandoms and know I've been updating three stories each a week for a while, I'm sorry to inform you that I'm just doing one this week.
> 
> I managed to stretch out my arms in a very uncomfortable way carrying groceries over here from next door where our driveway is (yes it is weird) so my arms hurt more than usual more quickly than usual. Plus I've been spacy and out of it all week. I might manage to somehow post two more tomorrow or I might not, but here's your warning.
> 
> I wish I could put out announcements without having to post a new chapter and that I could make it viewable to my whole readerbase. *sigh*
> 
> EDIT: Oh my fucking god I forgot to hit post yesterday. Well, there's the proof in the pudding of what my brain is like rn.

"I think we've lost them," I huff into my hands, warming my chilled fingers. They've almost gone numb.

Using too much magic, not eating a whole lot while being on the run, barely getting any sleep- it'll all stack up against you in temperatures like these.

"Damn mages bringing Templars down on our heads," Navette mutters. "Can't understand why the Commander still wants you around. I bet you she'd take offense to you putting all the rest of these people in danger."

"I've  _met_  your commander," Bann Teagan interjects. "And frankly I'm  _shocked_  that one of her lieutenants so openly espouses beliefs she confesses to hate. How on earth did you even get appointed by one such as her?"

That makes Navette stutter in her movements a bit and a frown coalesces on her face. "What the hell d'you mean by that? I've got loads of experience in combat and leading small groups around. Naturally, I'd be promoted."

"Yes but did your promotion come before your Commander discovered your opinions or after, is what I'm wondering," Teagan replies. "Because if it's after I have to wonder if your Commander is as much a Viper as any other. If Before, I anticipate you won't be holding that position for long."

Navette's mouth drops open but Fiona intercedes before it can become a fight. "Enough! We are all exhausted and hungry. We still have walking left to do and it will be an even more miserable trip if we are all at each other's throats. It will also make it more difficult to pay attention to our surroundings. So if you would kindly both shut up and  _walk_ , I'd be much obliged to do the same."

"Agreed," I chime. "I'm so exhausted, just listening to people talk is tiring."

There are more votes for everyone shutting up coming from the scattered, tired mouths of mages and civilians and guardsmen alike. Mostly in the form of grunts and noises that indicate agreement, less in words.

Navette goes silent, but the look on her face is stony and irritable so that may not last long. As for Bann Teagan, he seems to be in good enough spirits to take the admonition well.

Fiona sidles up beside me, then. "We will have to stop, eat and rest soon. The people with us are not soldiers and many of mine have never run this hard- they will not survive this pace."

I sigh and my shoulders drop, "we stay still too long and they might catch up to us. If they're even still following us at all. And there's no way to know that without sending a recon scout or two that way and then they'll know exactly which way to find us, especially if they're taken captive."

"Then let us hope the Crossroads are near enough we can take shelter at the end of our long walk. Otherwise some of the children and the older among us may fall ill." She observes them as she speaks, looking over her shoulder at the small mass of elderly, ill and children who are falling a bit behind us all.

"I don't know what else to do. Stopping could mean death, walking could mean death, what is the alternative, here." I'm not really asking…

I'm thinking.

"You look as though you've had an idea," Fiona says.

"More like an inkling but yeah…" I say slowly. "What if we built a village?"

"Beg pardon?" Bann Teagan is close enough to overhear. "Build a village?"

"A fake village. We could use fallen trees, and some magic- we have lyrium we could use- we could make them look like very basic houses from the outside. On the inside we would put everyone on their bedrolls, set up traps along the walls so they'd fall if anyone came too close and perhaps flash bright to wake us all up and blind our attackers. We could feel secure in our sleep and get out of the cold for a bit."

"Did your Commander teach you this?" Bann Teagan asks.

I shake my head. "No. I mean, she always had us plant some traps around camp, runes and actual traps together in patterns, but we did that even before meeting her."

"No I meant the eh, fake village part," he says with a slight smile.

"Oh, well I suppose?" I reply. "She did urge us to think differently and look for strange solutions to simple problems. I just figure, they'll try to creep up on the houses, or maybe knock thinking there might be actual townsfolk who could direct them our way, who knows. But it'd be walls between them and us until the moment we'd be ready to attack and tear them down."

"It's a good plan, and our people will be warm and safe for the first time since we began running," Fiona smiles brightly at me. "You are very clever, Serah Trevelyan. We are privileged to have you with us."

"Indeed," Bann Teagan agrees.

I feel a bit overcome with all the attention and stride forward to the front of the pack to inform Navette of our plans. "Navette, we've a plan, we can find a spot and stop for the night."

"Well thank the Maker and Andraste for that, but what's the plan?" she asks.

"Find a place that's mostly free of trees, and we'll show you," I reply. "We'll be out of the wind and safe from pursuers, at any rate."

"Right, whatever. So long as we get some sleep," she grumbles. "I can't stand to be upright another moment."

So we find a clearing not far from where we were walking and those of us not totally drained drink some Lyrium before clearing out the snow and beginning to set up fallen trees as our supports- and fell a few more for the walls.

We don't use as much wood as you'd usually use to build a house. It's more of a loose collection of shacks, really. The Nature mages are able to grow a canopy of branches from the felled trees to serve as a roof and it's not  _very_  warm- but at least we're not freezing to death.

Three shacks of large size do not a village make, but we can create more in the morning when we're better recovered. This place could work out as a hideaway for a bit until everyone is well enough to leave.

We pushed them very hard.

"Did you feel that?" Fiona stops short in the middle of laying a Rune and I look over to her-

Just noticing that my heart fluttered the instant before she asked and is still…what is this fee-

CRACK

The world seems to shiver and shake, the ground beneath us staying perfectly still but the air, our bodies, my magic- everything wobbles in that instant and I feel something.

I feel a bit more powerful than I did a moment before. Like the Veil is  _right there_  ready for me to grasp it.

And then I look up, in tandem with Fiona. At the…gaping hole in the sky.

Right in the direction we were heading.

"Commander…"

* * *

 

Miles POV

"Today you join with us and tomorrow you are one of us." The Keeper intones with solemn gravitas as she walks around me. Swinging a staff with a ball on the end, filled with incense- gesturing in spiraling patterns.

"The Clan welcomes family into the fold with the warm embrace of Mythal," she says.

The incense represents Mythal. I can't remember what it is, but it is a warm, soothing scent. Next is…Elgar'nan, right?

"The Clan vows vengeance on those who threaten the family, granted by Elgar'nan." She flicks her wrist and lights a torch. There are four of them ringed around me in the center of this ritual.

She lights each one as she circles around me again.

And now, the Craftsman and the Hearthkeeper.

"Our Hearth and our Arms belong to one and all of the People," she says. "Given to us by our lovely Sylaise and Brilliant June."

She lays a simple sword before me, not mine. One of Dalish make. And a single piece of bread in a beautifully decorated bowl. The sides are scrawled with  _Elvhen_ , I think.

The Huntress and her lover are next, I think. Yes. Andruil and Ghilan'nain.

"The family has a sacred duty, as all Dalish do, to revere that which was given us by the Halla Mother, and use it well as we are taught by the Great Huntress. Andruil and Ghilan'nain be praised for the bounty you bring to your people and the plenty we give in return."

She places a set of simple armor made from Halla leather and ironbark next to the sword and bread. Along with a water skin, corked. Already filled with water.

The twins are next.

I'm nearly vibrating with tension and anticipation but there's also this…heavy sleepiness within my limbs.

I am at once awake and asleep, waiting to be reborn anew. She told me it would feel this way but it is still…strange.

"May the eyes of Dirthamen only look upon your enemies and may their secrets only be whispered in your ear. Grant Falon'Din an anchor in your soul and you will find him in the afterlife, and be guided to where all our people rest."

She moves to sit before me, far enough away from the things she's been presenting that she doesn't disturb them. Then she slowly paints my face with a small brush dipped in rich emerald paint.

"And may the Dread Wolf never catch your scent, hear your steps or follow you home." She whispers, reverent and careful in her movements.

The Clan around us begin to hum a melody then as she continues to paint the intricate designs upon my face.

This is only the first step. I must have my Vallaslin after the hunt that will be my rite of passage. You must prove yourself ready to accept the responsibilities of adulthood.

I'm ready.

The hum gets steadily louder and more meandering as time goes on, until everything feels hazy like a dream.

"Join the Family, brother and become a Clanmate to me." The Keeper speaks as she stands, finished with the designs she has painted upon my face.

After learning about all of the Gods- two of them stuck out to me. A god of death and a god of secrets. I don't know why, but I felt…a connection. A moment where everything inside of me screamed  _yes_  for the first time in my life.

My brow is painted with the markings of Falon'Din- but my bottom lip and chin are painted for Dirthamen.

I follow the Keepers' direction and begin the next stage of the coming of age ritual.

I put the waterskin and bread aside, picking up the armor and carefully covering my nearly nude body with each individual piece. Then sheathe the sword at my hip.

Tying the waterskin to the other side of my belt, I pick up the bread and take a bite.

"This will be the last meal you eat before you can find something to bring home to your Clan. Do you accept this?" she asks.

"I will not eat until my Clan has been provided for," I reply. I don't know how I remembered that, everything is…very strange at the moment.

"Then you are ready to begin.  _Dareth Shiral_  and may you be successful in this hunt." The Keeper steps aside.

I walk past her and through the corridor of Clansmen, who reach out to touch me as I pass. Like a last farewell. In case the Clanmate does not return.

The danger was not lost on me when the Keeper informed me of the Hunt. But I've been learning from Shivanas, and I feel confident.

My eyes seek him out as I reach the edge of the wood, glancing over my shoulder for a final look at my Clan before venturing into the darkness.

His beautiful eyes almost glow in the light of the torches and I yearn to be finished already, so I can return to him.

Then I turn and step into the forest.

CRACK

A loud noise and a feeling like a rattling in your bones has me turned around and sprinting back to camp to check on everyone before I can think to do anything else.

Shivanas grasps my hands when I find him and we twine our fingers as we weave through the panicked bodies to get to the Keeper.

She stares upward and off in the distance, so we turn to look with her.

And there is a hole in the sky.

" _Mythal'enaste_ ," The Keeper whispers, pale. "Great Mother, protect my people."

"Isn't that…" Shivanas pauses and glances at me. "Isn't that…the direction-"

" _No,_ " sighs out of me. I feel as though I can't breathe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shit's goin' down.


	38. Ren POV, Arisala POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I fucking forgot to put the pov's up. XP Well they're there now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was able to update two stories this week! Unwritten and Unexpected. We'll see if I can get another one finished before the day is out, though I probably won't, lol.

Everything went out of control much more quickly than I could handle at first.

There were barriers and runes to put up, walls to build and then reinforce around our own camp- and then we came up on a food shortage because being trapped behind flimsy walls for days while you're constantly battling demons means you can't exactly go out hunting or picking berries.

So I made an executive decision, and I escorted everyone into Haven. It was difficult, and they didn't want to admit more refugees, as they were about full to bursting.

But I played the Mercenary card, and asked to speak to their commanding officer to give service in return for shelter for those of us who couldn't fight and a safe place to sleep.

It turns out, their commander is a Templar. Which I was  _not_  expecting…but am not really surprised by.

"I'm told you've offered a mercenary force for defense of the gates," he says. Walking into the very small area my people were given to wait for the Commander in.

He isn't the tallest of humans I've seen, but tall enough to tower over me. Dark skin, warm eyes and a suit of near-pristine armor. Not devoid of scratches and dings, just clean- immaculately maintained.

"We are few in number and will need to rest before we can begin, but yes. And I…am a healer," I say. Being found to be a mage in hiding is worse than simply admitting to it in a small, enclosed camp like this. If they assumed I meant harm because I kept it a secret…

There is a surprising amount of relief on his face at the disclosure of my status as a mage. "Thank the maker, we are badly in need of your skills. I am Commander Delrin Barris, and if you've got the manpower to help us push the demons back away from the gates and rotate out with our regular soldiers and scouts, we're happy to have you. Even happier if you happen to be particularly adept with potion making and healing spells."

"I do happen to be good with both of those things," I reply. "So my people can stay if the warriors fight and I heal?"

He nods. "I regret that we can't simply accept everyone who needs protection, it is supposed to be what we are for. But any space and resources taken up by refugees is more not going to the soldiers and Templars protecting Haven."

A thought occurs to me, then. "Anyone else…you can send them to our old camp. It has walls. Flimsy ones, but…they can defend themselves at least a bit there," I disclose.

He smiles then, softly but fiercely. "Thank you, I will have the men sweep the area to find it and they will escort people there."

I nod.

"As for you, I'll have you escorted over to Adan and you can take over his duties effective immediately. He is not a healer or an herbalist but has had to function as one for two days now." The commander says.

I grimace. "Lovely. I'll get to work immediately and let you know if I come across any problems. And I guarantee I will. My luck speaks for itself, I think."

The Commander makes a commiserating face and pats me on the shoulder, calling for a runner to take me where I need to go.

* * *

 

Arisala POV

As the ginger elf suggested, I have not revealed my status as a mage just yet.

I was barely healed when we made camp at Haven, but I recovered in time to help with defense of the perimeter while the ginger elf decided on what we should do. In the end he chose the security of a larger fortress.

That would be wise if there were not mage-hunters crawling over every inch of it. No matter. I gained an assignment to scout the temple grounds for any remaining survivors. That should keep me away from the templars for a bit.

Remembering the human woman with steel in her spine and fire in her eyes is a mixed bag. I am sorry she was lost, angry that she was taken from her people unjustly as she seemed a very wise leader with upstanding morals. I am also guilty for being injured while she was in danger when I should have been defending her to repay the debt I owed for her saving my life.

I do not know why she did it but regardless I am alive because of her and the ginger elf. If I am to call myself honorable, I must honor that.

So I am here to search for her. Or any sign of her. Her body, a piece of jewelry, a scrap of fabric- anything that will confirm her death and give the ginger elf something to lay her to rest.

I still cannot remember his name. Or if he ever gave it to me. We simply looked and nodded and spoke to each other without need of names while in camp together. There was no reason to ask.

"Over here! Look!" One of the scouts gets low and hisses at me.

I follow as stealthily as I can manage. There is no cover, but I make little sound.

The rift ahead is fluctuating, and we should be running from it lest it spit more demons at us. But the light is different. Golden- like a yellow flame bursting forth-

And then there is a body falling through it, slamming into the ground beneath and all is quiet for a moment as we stare.

I recognize the hair, but how…

Moving forward, even before I realize what I intend to do- I grasp her shoulder and roll her over.

She whimpers in pain, but her eyes remain closed and I can confirm. This is the Commander.

"It's her," I whisper and turn to the scouts. "Run quickly to camp and tell the Templar Commander that the Justicar Commander has been found. She is alive and she…fell from a rift. I will be carrying her behind you. Clear the way forward."

They glance at each other but turn and run.

Leaving me to my task.

I crouch and pull the still-crying human into my arms. "You will be with the healer soon, Commander. He will be happy to see you."

Taking a few steps, I shift her until she's nearly immobile and then begin moving faster.

"You will explain to the others how you survived when you wake," I say. "I am not surprised you found a way. You are strong. But this was also strong magic. And you have no magic within you, at least not since last I checked."

I do a cursory inspection of her body with my mana as I run and nearly drop her when I encounter it.

A shining beacon of power, somehow…lodged into her left hand.

"Ah…that is troublesome."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I have changed things around a bit. Cullen is still in the story and I still want to give him a redemption, but I feel like...he didn't really want or deserve it yet and he hadn't actually hit his rock bottom in DA2. I feel like that was a mid-point.
> 
> So you will be seeing Cullen, he's just not the Commander anymore.


	39. Ren POV, Tevea POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh boy oh boy, we're so close to Nik waking up.
> 
> I can't wait for next week. *eyebrow waggle* You guys get to see something new, then.

Having a Seeker of Truth breathing down my neck was not something I'd ever anticipated.

I'd expected Templars. Maybe not many of them, but enough to be suspicious and keep a close watch on us- after all, whatever that explosion was, it was magical in nature.

I felt it in my  _bones_.

But a  _Seeker_. So much worse than the worst scenario. And this one is angry. You can feel it vibrating in the air around her, she  _projects_  it in a way that is nearly magical. Certain people tend to give off differing levels of emotional…vibrations, in the air around them. Differing from the non-mages and mages both. They're a sort of in-between.

I believe the Seeker is an in-between. And it's interfering with my concentration.

"Glaring at the back of my head will not make my work go faster, Seeker Cassandra." I intone boredly as I once again run my magic through Nik's body. The very lightest touch I can muster.

"I am beginning to become impatient with the lack of progress, Lieutenant," the Seeker responds.

And I'm still getting used to that title.

"I already told you I can't heal her all at once and I already told you exactly  _why_. What precisely do you propose I do? Kill her with an overabundance of magical energy when she's likely our only hope for understanding what's happening?" I sense a few more places are healing- taking in the energy and doing the work for me, really. I think her body just…takes time to accept what you put into it. It has a delayed reaction…or something like that.

"I propose you move quickly enough that our world does not die while we wait for her to wake," she snaps. Standing and stalking from the room.

The mage that accompanied her grimaces when I glance back to watch her dramatic exit. He makes an apologetic gesture and follows after her. "Cass, you know that isn't going to inspire anyone to…"

His voice trails off as they leave the dungeon together.

Everyone was quite adamant that the Commander could've had nothing to do with the explosion. The servants, the mages who'd met her even momentarily- all of them gave glowing commendations on her character and even her work ethic.

Apparently the Commander didn't only go undercover, she took it seriously and did the hard, back-breaking labor of the servants.

Which is likely why I can see so many muscle and tendon strains as well as injuries, days old- it's likely she made mistakes and was disciplined for it. Which would have been wonderful to know before beginning.

I can only focus my magic on the life-threatening injuries and hope it takes. Ignoring the smaller injuries that might cause discomfort but aren't really dangerous.

Everyone in Haven is so tense. Angry, vengeful, spiteful and terrified. It's not great living here at the moment, but thankfully my duties tending to Nik keep me away from other people most of the time. I'm so tired of having rotten food hurled at me as I walk down the street.

One mage is bad, all mages are bad. That's how the common man thinks. And humans don't hesitate to apply the same rule to anyone different from them. And lucky me I fit two categories of people they don't like.

If this were the days of old, perhaps I'd have been an honored healer in a temple to whomever was ruling the Elvhen Empire. Or perhaps I'd still have been a mercenary in a band filled with Elves. Who knows.

And since when did I become a Justicar, exactly? I know Nik said it was only until she got back, but why in the first place? Why give me command of the whole unit?

Telling me that I'm emotionally stable and kind of a hardass does _not_  really clear things up for me.

* * *

 

Tevea POV

"She was aware there was going to be an attack on the Divine's life?" lady Nightingale questions with her dagger-point eyes.

I nod nervously. "Yes, my lady. She told us she'd heard that someone important was going to use their influence to get in to see her- or perhaps that it would be someone pretending to be important. That someone-"

"Why didn't she stop this, then!?" the lady Seeker shouts and stomps around the interrogation table to face me.

I am already shrinking back in my seat.

The Lady Nightingale stands and shoves the Seeker back. " _Cassandra_. Control yourself or leave. Do not make me use a dart."

The Seeker glowers at her and they stand staring into each others' eyes for a long moment, but finally the Seeker turns around and punches the wall of the interrogation room.

Lady Nightingale sits back in her seat across from me. "Do not mind Cassandra. I will not allow her to hurt you. I only need to know what this Commander of yours knew and how she knew it."

I breathe and blink- just being silent for a moment, adjusting myself in the chair. "Sh…She didn't tell me. She just…she said she had contacts. That's all. And she…she's not my Commander, my lady. I'm not a mercenary. I was just one of the serving staff that she decided to ask for help."

"And why would she do that, exactly?" The Seeker asks. Imperious and still humming with anger. Arms crossed over her chest. "Ask a bunch of servants for assistance instead of the Templars or the Agents that were stationed everywhere?"

"She said she wasn't important enough yet for them to listen to her," I reply. "And even if she were, they'd have to be surprised in the end, or they would alert the people coming for the Divine that they knew of their presence and intentions. She said they wouldn't stop. They'd slaughter everyone and then move on the Divine anyway. The best way to try and stop them was evacuate everyone quietly in a way they wouldn't suspect was evacuation, and then tell the Templars what was going on and react as quickly as possible to get the Divine out."

"If she did not think the Templars could stop the assailants if the Templars knew of them, why then would they be able to stop them if they didn't?" Lady Nightingale asks.

I swallow. "They wouldn't, My Lady. But they could die in the effort of saving the Divine, instead of defending the tower, trying to keep her within. If she stayed, she would die. So the Commander thought, the only way to save her, was to have her removed and then hidden before they could escape the tower to come looking for her."

The Seeker inhales long and loud, as if she is attempting to hold something in.

Lady Nightingale reaches up, a hand in the air, signaling her to be silent. "Where did the Commander believe she could hide the Divine?"

"She didn't have any ideas of where the Divine was going to go because the less people who would know where she went, the better. She was convinced the Divine would know what to do. Where to go." I respond.

Lady Nightingale stands and walks up to the Seeker. "One of her agents? Not possible, she would have allowed her entry."

"Someone else's then, perhaps," the Seeker replies quietly.

I don't know whether I'm supposed to hear or not, so I keep my expression blank and try to focus on something else. The wood grain in the table is very pretty.

"It doesn't matter, one way or another we will have no answers on this until she awakes," Lady Nightingale says.

Then turns back to me and gestures for me to stand. "You are free to go, Serah Tevea. We will question the Commander when she wakes and hope for a clearer picture."

I blink a bit rapidly. "But-. You haven't asked about the Grey Wardens yet!" I blurt it in shock, as I remember I have neglected an entire detail. But the fact that they have not asked even once who it was…

"What Gray Wardens?" The Seeker steps up next to Lady Nightingale and as their combined attention settles on me, I wilt a bit.

"The…the people in Gray Warden uniforms or Wardens themselves, I don't know…but when she heard about them coming near, she seemed to know that they were the ones." I explain.

Lady Nightingale and The Lady Seeker give each other a long, lingering look. Indecipherable to me.

And then the Lady Nightingale nods once, sharply. "Thank you for that information. You are free to leave now, and we will look into this. If you recall anything else, inform Lady Montilyet."

I bow my head, then get up from the table and leave the room with my hands clasped tightly before me.

The Commander said they likely wouldn't hurt me so long as I told them everything I knew- but she also said I may want to pass this task to one of the Human servants…just to be sure.

I didn't want anyone else to go in my place. But she was right. I could feel they wanted to pick me apart for answers, and if I were human- perhaps it wouldn't have been so obvious. Perhaps they only had restraint because they feared I would say nothing at all.

All I know for certain is that I am safe and away from them and now…I need to lie down for a bit. I do hope that is allowed. There isn't much to be done at the moment by people like me aside from latrine and fetching duties. I should have time.

I only hope no one catches me and tells the Head Servant I was being lazy. He will have my hide.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone here a Zev fan? Check out my new story titled Lover, Mine!
> 
> Also anyone thirsty for Aaravos? Sunkissed and Startouched!


	40. Varric POV

"Shit. Wore the wrong boots for this."

One Crossbow bolt to the face and the Wraith that jumped me from the treeline dissolves. Glad I splurged on those supplies. Seems without 'em I'd be up shit creek without a paddle about now.

I'm still not close enough to Haven to really relax but I'm getting closer with every step. Just wish I could've bought or rented a horse in the Crossroads. Would've needed a pony, though. Those aren't very common around these parts, I'd wager.

I was on my way out when the sky split open. Knew I shoulda left before things started happening. But once they had…couldn't turn my back on it.

Same old story, different cover.

Wonder what the twist ending will be.

"Behind you!" A voice shouts from behind and I whirl on my heel just in time to see a rage demon frozen solid.

Happened so fast it almost seems like it was instant. Hawke and Daisy used to have to work at it. Even Blondie couldn't do something like that unless Justice came out to play.

Slamming into the ice sculpture of the demon- I shatter it and it dissolves into that smoky black and green stuff that all the demons have been poofing into lately.

I see the face of a stranger once it's gone, though one I glimpsed a few times in the Tavern down in the Crossroads.

Hood covering a bald head, points of his ears poking out of the sides- piercing eyes set in a thin face. Nothing about him stands out. And that's strange. It's always the really bland looking people who don't  _want_  to be noticed. Usually means something.

_What_  it means in this situation, really can't say.

"Thanks," I call out and lift a hand. "My goose was almost cooked there, friend. Varric Tethras. You are?"

He walks a little closer and I notice something else. He walks kind of like the Elf back in Kirkwall. No shoes, but graceful. Slow and practiced movements. Ready to move in any direction at any time.

Stopping a short distance away from me, he smiles pleasantly. "I am Solas. And I was also headed toward Haven. I thought to ask if we might travel together."

"Sounds like a plan," I reply. "But eh, just so you know, I'm not used to working with  _all_  kinds of mages. I used to run with a Healer, a Blood Mage and a sort of…generalist- back in Kirkwall. They had…different styles. I adapted to 'em. Like you do."

He nods, and his smile sparks something in his eyes. The smile comes off a little more genuine now. "You will find me utterly different, though I do have a rudimentary understanding of all schools of magic, my specialization is the Veil and the Fade."

I squint, "isn't that every mage's specialization, technically?"

He chuckles. A soft, rolling sound, ending on a sharp inhale. Almost like he wants to take it back as soon as it escapes. "No. I mean to say that I use pure energy and am quite adept at Fade-Walking."

"Dreaming or…" I ask.

He lifts both brows. "Most people would not think to ask that question."

"Most people have probably never been in a Dalish Fade ritual and freed a dreamer from the grip of three demons by going into the Fade consciously," I reply.

Something sharpens in his eyes, can't really put my finger on it until-

"That is fascinating," he says. "Would you mind if I asked you questions about that experience?"

I laugh and turn, gesturing up the path. "We've got a while to walk. It'll give us somethin' to do to pass the time between demon attacks."

That chuckle again and we walk together up the path, side by side.

And I'm intensely aware that this person is  _curious_. Above everything else, the thing that made him perk up was the promise of strange, new information. Or the chance to share it with someone else.

I'm getting this image in my mind of a guy who'd be at home in some kind of university. A teacher and a student at different times in his life. Maybe some kind of researcher. But that fake smile, followed by the real one- his bland appearance…

This guy either doesn't usually fit into normal social groups or he tries specifically not to. A loner?

"When did this ritual take place?" he asks.

"Back in Kirkwall before everything went to hell," I reply. "There was this Dalish Keeper, and a…damn, what was that word…" I pull out my personal journal and start scribbling a few lines about that kid- just what I can remember and- ah. That sparked something. "Som..nah…something?"

"Somniari," he replies. "I suppose you could apply that term to me if you were to be so generous. So you met another? Curious. We are quite rare. You must be a truly interesting individual."

"You don't have to butter me up to get me to tell a story, Chuckles." I say.

Something in the way he looks at me then, from beside me is…weird. Usually when you catch people in a manipulation, or something like that, they don't like it. They get even more cagey and suspicious.

But he's smiling. With his whole face this time.

"Chuckles?" he asks.

"A personal foible of mine," I reply. "I nickname all the people I like."

"Shall I take it as an overture of friendship, then?" he asks. A little cheekily.

"Dunno yet, but you'll know when I do," I reply.

We share a chuckle, then. Looks like this trip just got more entertaining.

"Approaching," he pauses in the road and his ears flicker. "From the west, they'll be coming out of the trees soon."

"Damn," I pull Bianca off my back. "Forgot how useful Elf hearing is on jobs like this."

"Jobs?" he asks as the demons break the treeline.

"Technically everything I do anywhere is a job for me," I take aim.

"An interesting thought," he replies. Getting into position with his staff. "I would also like to know about  _that_."

"Heh, you're just full of questions, aren't ya?" I ask.

And fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How'd you guys like this alternate Solas intro? I feel like it's more organic-- and I figured, since they were both in the same Tavern in that trailer and the game devs confirmed that character absolutely was Solas-- then why not have them travel to Haven together from there?


	41. Ren POV, Cassandra POV

"What in- Andraste's name is going  _on_?" I ask when I reach the front of the very small, but very loud crowd outside the gates. "Lady Cassandra?"

She stands before a man I've never seen before- no, two men. The other is half-hidden by her looming presence. She glares down at the Dwarf before her with a sort of cold familiarity.

She calls back with a handwave, "everyone keep behind the boundaries of Haven's walls."

"You aren't my Commander, Seeker," I reply as I walk over to stand beside her. "I just got word we were offered a new Healer with expertise on Nik's particular condition and that you were attempting to  _chase him off_ , so what in-"

"Do not trifle with  _me_ ,  _ **mage**_ ," she turns her head to growl at me. "Get behind the boundary!"

The Dwarf looks content to disappear into the background for the moment, but he does look on the verge of saying  _something_. I'm a bit surprised he hasn't simply shrunk to the ground in fear like most of Haven does when the Lady Seeker rages.

"I will not," I reply. "You may have tasked me with the job of tending to Nik but I certainly didn't need your permission. And I don't need it now."

I turn to the second person- an Elven mage it would seem. And his attire and relative comfort in the presence of a Seeker- he must be an apostate. No ratty robes, but definitely frayed clothing. Dirty like he knows how to scrounge for things.

Thank the heavens that no gods or men would send me another Circle mage to deal with on top of all the ones already here. Bunch of headless chickens, the lot of them.

"You know something of what's happened to the Commander?" I ask.

He opens his mouth and Cassandra lashes out again, this time turning to loom over me and glare. "It does not matter! He will not come inside Haven's walls!"

"He doesn't need to," I agree airily. "I can bring Nik to  _him._ In fact, I can just  _take_  Nik and leave  _right now_. You've no right to hold her against her will and I am the only person here who can speak for her, at least till Miles shows up."

"She  _caused_  this!" She shouts and points to the Breach. "She will  _answer_ for that if I have to cut you  _both_  down, so be it!"

" _Cassandra_ , that is  **enough**." That mage that keeps following her around and attempting to mend broken fences has appeared once more and is standing behind her. She has to twist to look at him and she does, with a surprised look on her face. "Yes, I am speaking to  _you_. The officer shouting at a healer that he can't do his job and telling a refugee that has skills to be put to use that he cannot come inside to fix the woman you want answers from." He speaks firmly and without doubt. "If you want her dead, by all means, allow her to die in that dungeon. But I thought, my lady, the entire point of giving her treatment was so you could ask her what  _happened_  when she woke up?"

The Seeker snaps to a standing position, breathing roughly as her eyes seem to clear and she gazes around at those gathered to watch this interaction.

There's a measly few Templars left after the explosion but they watch her with wide eyes. Not frightened, but shocked. The Seeker is many things but this illogical amount of anger is now getting in the way of her duty and for one so storied and decorated as the Lady Seeker Pentaghast…well, it must be  _very_  shocking.

And the Dwarf, well- he just watches. With attentive eyes and ears, as if he's soaking in the moment.

She inhales sharply and narrows her eyes at him but doesn't snap this time. "Regalyan, I require your assistance with a task I must see to." Turning her head only, she speaks in my direction next. "I trust you can handle this?"

I nod my head deferentially, if not sarcastically- and she is off. To pester someone else with her presence until she explodes again, no doubt.

"Well," I turn with a sigh and a clap of my hands. "Please tell me you actually have some idea of what's going on here so I won't have just spent an afternoon facing off with the Lady Seeker for nothing?"

The mage is already watching me, actually seeming amused. Or by that glimmer in his eyes, I'd say  _delighted_. "I specialize in the Fade and Fade walking. Magics that use the raw energy of it. I daresay I know a bit more than any of the mages enclosed here, unless you happen to have a Rift mage."

"Rift mage?" I ask. I've never heard of that specialization.

"These are not the first rifts to appear, you understand." He says. "They occur naturally in many places. They are usually easy to close once you've found the reason they opened to begin with. I have the feeling these will be more difficult." He gazes up at the Breach. "Especially  _that_  one. But I believe I have the knowledge you need to find the answer. So I offer my assistance."

"Best news I've had all week," I reply.

"Eh-hem," the Dwarf clears his throat. "Varric Tethras."

I quirk an eyebrow at him and tilt my head. "That's a mighty strange cough you've got there, Messere."

He chuckles, "ouch. No need to 'Messere' me. Just call me Varric. And you are?"

"Ren," I reply shortly. "And you?" I turn to the mage and shrug my shoulders up with my eyebrows.

His lips twitch at one edge and he replies, "if there are to be introductions…then, I am Solas. Pleased to meet you. Now, where is the patient?"

 

* * *

 

Cassandra POV

"I dislike it when you undermine me in front of the men," I grouse.

" _I_  dislike  _having_  to undermine you in front of anyone, anywhere, at any time," Galyan replies. "As I've said before, I will follow you anywhere, Cassandra. That doesn't mean I won't yank you back when you throw yourself into turmoil like this. Or never disagree. It means pretty much the exact opposite." He gives me a rakish grin and a wink. "Now, what are we doing  _here_?"

"Following leads," I respond. Looking at the Tavern with distaste. "Many of the Justicars stay in that outer camp with the refugees, 'protecting them'," I scoff. "But some have stayed with the mage Lieutenant, and they take their breaks within the Tavern more often than not. Mercenaries are all the same."

"Why are you so hesitant to accept the Justicars for who they say they are?" he pauses me just outside the door with a hand on my shoulder. "Some healthy suspicion is fine, but Cassandra, you're becoming obsessed with proving these people guilty. One who cannot see the path before them will mistake every pebble for a snake nipping their toes."

Ah Regalyan, and his ridiculous metaphors. It halts my mood and makes me huff, almost in laughter. But not quite.

"Are you trying to lecture me?" I ask.

"I'm trying to warn you not to narrow your perceptions to your own idea of what happened. We don't  _know_  what happened up there. By all indications, this Commander was trying to help the Divine. If it turns out not to be true, we'll deal with that," he says. "But all evidence points to her attempting to save the Divine and the entire Conclave from someone she thought was threatening them."

"And how did she know this?" I ask him. "Why employ the servants if she had a company of mercenaries at her back? Why not ask to see the Divine directly and warn her of the threat?"

"If you think the Divine had time to give audience to every mercenary that came to her door," he says. "You are mistaken. Lovely, but mistaken."

I punch him in the shoulder and he winces. "Stop flattering me, and make your point."

"I already have, Cassandra," he pouts. "You weren't listening."

"Oh? Then you should repeat yourself, perhaps you were mumbling," I taunt.

"Well I never!" he huffs, eyes dancing with mirth. "Alright then, if you'll be so kind as to actually listen this time…"

"I make no promises," I reply.

"Cruel woman," he shakes his head and sighs. "Well, my point was- the Divine was very busy. Not only with her usual duties, but with overseeing all of Haven. Lady Montilyet had not yet arrived until mere days before the Breach. You and the Lady Nightingale, did not arrive till the day after. She was left in charge of approving and overseeing everything. She  _barely_  had time for the peace talks."

"Why was Josephine so late?" I ask. "I meant to ask her but-"

"You got caught up in the Dragon hunt?" he asks.

Gently enough, but it puts a rock in my throat.

"I only want to know what happened," I reply dully. "I want to know who  _did_  this."

"And we  _will_  find out, love." He steps close to me and presses a hand to the center of my back, steadying me. But pulls away before anyone can see. "But we need to do so with a clear head. The both of us."

I sigh and reach out to push open the door. "I still need to question them."

"And I will be right behind you," he replies.

"Lady Seeker!" Someone calls out to me and Regalyan and I both back out of the Tavern to face the messenger. "Someone is at the gates! He claims to be the Justicar Lieutenant-Commander!"

"He is the direct successor to the Commander of the Justicar forces?" I ask. "Where has he been!?"

"On a mission, my lady, or so he says." The messenger scrunches their nose. "S'a Knife-ear, one of the wild ones."

"A Dalish elf?" Regalyan asks, intrigued. "How interesting. She does have an Elven mage lieutenant, I don't see how it's so unbelievable."

"An Elven mage and a Dalish elf are two different things, Regalyan," I reply. "Dalish Elves can sometimes be savage. Attacking all humans who come within range."

"Well I'd attack people who keep trying to chase me off my own property, too," he says.

"This isn't the time for joking, Regalyan," I snap. "If this man  _is_ her lieutenant, he could take control of these Justicars and do whatever it was they came here to do. If he is not, then he is wasting our time attempting to grasp at power that is not his and must be dealt with."

Galyan sighs, "why not go and talk to him and figure out who he is before you decide he's the harbinger of all evil, hmm?"

Feeling chastised but not discouraged, I make a decision. "Fine. I will. But you will stay here. Watch these Justicars and tell me if they do anything strange."

Galyan raises a hand and places the other over his heart. "On my honor, they shall not clip a toenail without your say so, my lady."

I huff a disgusted noise and stomp off after the Messenger who turns to lead me back toward the main gates.

Glancing back over my shoulder, I see Galyan walk into the Tavern.

He nearly died in the Breach. It was a matter of minutes. It is not lost on me that if this Commander killed the Divine, she also saved the only man I have ever loved.

And if she did not kill the Divine-

Well, I am not prepared to accept that yet. She is the only one that makes sense. Certainly more sense than a  _Gray Warden_  attempting to do such a thing.

I am grateful Regalyan lived, but I will never forget or forgive what happened to Justinia.

"There he is, Lady Seeker." The messenger points out a pair of Dalish Elves conversing with Commander Delrin Barris.

One is taller than the other and broader, but he stands behind the shorter, thinner one. Almost as if he is a bodyguard. Long white hair, intricately braided to keep his hair out of his face.

The smaller one is brunette and as the messenger said, he does look wild. Dirty, mussed and vaguely irritated. But he is standing tall and does not seem to be deferring to the Commander. He is either unaware they are of different ranks or he does not care.

That chafes me. A leader from an upstart organization is not equal to a well-established hand of the state. Not even if their ranks in their respective places are the same. They lack legitimacy, they should bloody well act like it.

"What is this, Commander?" I ask as I step to his side. "Why are we entertaining the lies of what is obviously a commoner seeking asylum?"

These Elves, neither of them in any armor that could be recognized as Mercenary at all…surely this is a deception. One of them wields a worn bow, the other has a very old looking sword on his hip. And while their order may not be well-funded, the Justicars at least seem to have good equipment, at least those I have met and seen.

All but Ren, who is a mage and wears robes.

"I'm the Lieutenant-Commander of the Justicar forces, just like I told your messenger and your army commander," the brunette elf intones with an air of aggravation. "Nik sent me on a mission to take a Dalish elf back to his Clan. But I saw the Breach and I came back."

I scoff and gesture to his face, "you speak as though you are not Dalish."

"I wasn't until a few days ago," he replies irritably while touching his cheek. Caressing the tattoos there as if he can feel them on his skin. "Before then I was a City elf. If you want to check with her-"

"She is unavailable for the asking and isn't that convenient?" I say. "No. You will not enter Haven until I know your identity, your intentions-"

"My  _Identity_  has been given to you," he interrupts. "My  _Intentions_  are to find the Commander and what comes next will depend entirely on what in the Maker's name is going  _on_  here."

Too many contradictions, he is not even a bit consistent in his identity. How can he expect me to accept any of this?

"I've had enough, Commander you have your orders." I turn on my heel and leave.

"Is there anyone else who could verify your identity? Anyone at all?" Barris questions the charlatan, but I've already moved out of hearing range before his answer.

No doubt he will either turn up to be a liar or he really  _is_  a part of her organization and he has less than favorable intentions. For now I do not want him in the Village.

And I will watch the others to see how they react to this. If there is to be some uprising, I will squash it before it starts.

Lieutenant Ren will need an escort after that scene this morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cassie's got a lot of unresolved feelings and complex emotions going on right now. Wonder how that'll effect things...


	42. Delrin Barris POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know you guys probably feel like this story is taking forever and we'll never get to the romance but I swear I cannot control the pace of the story or which characters take center stage at what time. My brain says this is how the story goes, and that's how it flows from my fingertips.
> 
> I hope you still like it, even if my brain is taking it's sweet fucking time.

It'd seem I was right to double-check the Lady Seeker's supposition.

Ren confirmed Miles' identity as the Lieutenant-Commander. I can only hope we didn't cause a major incident by denying him entry where his superior officer was being treated and possibly dying.

Lady Josephine is in a tizzy over it, though Seeker Cassandra seems…content that he's not within Haven's walls. Can't really put my finger on it, but she seems strange lately. Almost like a snapping turtle, lashing out at everything coming anywhere near her shell.

I directed him to the mostly-abandoned Justicar camp that we'd been sending refugees to when we were full up. It's probably cramped there, but at least it's a place with other people where you can go to get warm.

Taking a contingent of men around the perimeter every few hours provides them with some safety, even though we can't really fight off all the Demons that appear, we cut down on their numbers. Push them back.

We'll have to retreat behind our walls before long if this keeps up and then what will happen to all of them?

Times like these, I'm glad I left the order. Something about it just never fit. It was…grandiose and self-important to be a Templar. We kept the mages, protected them from the people and also the other way around…but mostly my fellow Templars never really seemed interested in protecting anyone.

They wanted to know what perks came with the job and if one of those perks was the mages, to do with as they pleased, all the better.

I couldn't stand it anymore. Especially not after everything that happened in Kirkwall, the Spire…I heard left and right about the 'evil' mages doing terrible things but not one person spoke up about the Templars who should've been protecting and guiding them. Except to express disappointment that they didn't kill all the mages before it could happen.

Not one comment about how the Templars should've done their job as protectors better, and listened to the mages. How they should've been punished for abuses of power.

Not. One.

No, instead the questions revolved around the mages.

'What pushed Orsino to declare war like this?'

'How did Anders accomplish his terrorist act?'

'Did the Champion kill Meredith?'

Everyone is always so quick to blame a mage for some infraction they may not have even known they were making. Or punish them for having dreams for the future and wanting children and a loving family.

That's why I left. I just…couldn't be part of it anymore.

So here I am, joining up with the new Inquisition by request of the Divine's left and right hands…helping to settle things between the mages and Templars. Hoping against hope that maybe I could make a difference. Me and the few men who followed me because they also couldn't stand it any longer.

And now I'm walking around the outside of our village walls, hoping to find some people alive so I can be sure we didn't just piss off a military company who might hold a grudge-

"I think we can fit more along this wall!" a voice shouts from within the camp. Halting me and the two men with me.

"If you can't fit something, don't shove it there," a second voice replies. "Just leave the space open for storage of small belongings."

"Got it!" the first voice responds to the second.

Last I saw this place, it was packed full of refugees, miserable and cold and afraid.

But when I approach the side of the constructed wall they made for themselves- I see it stretches further than before. The gate is still on this side, but…

"Oi, what do you want?" A young woman steps into the gate opening to eye us suspiciously. "We're still constructing here, we don't need anybody gettin' in the way."

My brow furrows. "Constructing what, exactly?"

"Our village!" she replies, shrilly. "Seein' as we wasn't welcome in  _yours_."

"I…see…is Miles around?" I ask. "I've confirmed his identity, I just need to speak with him, now."

She huffs. "And what, take him back to your nice little Village with its healers and actual beds while the rest of us are left without leadership and go back to bein' cold and hungry?"

I blink and my mouth opens but I can't…understand what she is saying. I have no idea why she believes removing one mercenary would compromise their village. Though I suppose that is one less person to fight demons…?

"Will ya just tell him we're here?" one of my men barks. "Not going to let-"

"Lloyd, stop," I reach a hand out physically and grasp his shoulder. "These people are not technically under our protection, they have no reason to obey our orders. Behave yourself."

"Yeah!" The woman says. Indignant. "S'not enough that you don't let us into your fancy village with all the-"

"What the  _hell_  is going on over there?" It's that second voice from before. I recognize the commanding tone. And it seems…familiar besides that…

Miles, Lieutenant-Commander of the Justicars, steps out from behind the young woman. Drawing to his full height and looking me in the eye as he does so. "Something you needed, Commander?"

"I confirmed your identity with Ren. I apologize for the confusion, but…what is going on here, exactly?" I ask.

He lifts an eyebrow and steps backwards, gently taking the young woman's arm and tugging her along. "Why not come in and see for yourself, Commander? If you're so curious…"

I  _am_  curious…but why not answer the question? Can't be that shocking.

So I wave my men back and step inside…taking a good look around and…I was wrong.

"How…" I stare in awe of the newly expanded walls that are still flimsy but firm enough to provide protection and declare a definite perimeter.

Even moreso at the small shacks that each hold one person or a whole family depending on its size and relative placement along the walls. The middle of the space is governed by a healer's area, long and wide- with cots lined down the entire length of it. Tended by everyone who's not currently working on the walls, the shacks or…

"What are they doing over there?" I point to a corner in which there is an abundance of large stumps. They look like they've been ripped up out of the ground.

"We had to fell a lot of trees for all this wood," Miles replies. "We decided to use every bit of it. At the moment they're cutting off excess roots, smoothing everything they can, coating it with a mixture of beeswax and tree resin- and then we'll be storing our food inside them."

"You cut out a cavity in the wood and…" I gesture at the little circles of wood being fitted with iron hinges. "Where did you get those?"

"Well Haven wasn't really in need of any hinges and nails at the moment, but they do need Elfroot," he replies. Scratching his jaw, almost unconcerned with everything around him. "So we made a trade. Had to find a  _lot_  of Elfroot to get them to agree, but well." He shrugs. "We got enough."

"That's where the Elfroot shipment came from?" I ask, surprised. "I was told that some villagers supplied it in exchange for non-essential goods, but I didn't know that was you folks."

He nods, "I imagine that admitting we saved that many lives even though we've been kicked out and told to rough it on our own would be embarrassing."

It's irritating to hear that. Not because I doubt it's true, pretty much the opposite. I can't believe I still have work to do with these men- not only with their combat prowess, that I could live with. But matters of  _honor_? Why are all the men who've joined the Inquisition till now…honorless men who couldn't care less about the affairs of others?

What is it about this organization we're starting that draws them in?

"How are you going to keep your food preserved inside a hollowed-out tree stump?" I ask.

"We've got mages in here," he says simply. Shrugging. "They can cast preservation spells and keep the insides of the stump under the lid cold- freeze everything. Renew the spell a few times when necessary. But you must've come over here for a reason besides asking me about all this, since you don't really seem to have known about it beforehand…"

I clear my throat and nod. "I came to invite you into Haven. As your identity has been confirmed, to serve with the rest of the guardsmen and maybe see your Commander."

He hums and seems to think on it for a moment before replying with a headshake. "Can't. If Nik wakes up and finds out I left a bunch of helpless refugees to fend for themselves when I could've stayed to help them, she'll have my ass on a plate."

"You think she'd be upset that you decided to stay near and protect her?" That's a bit strange.

He snorts. "I…have you  _met_  her yet?"

"No, not as such," I reply. "She's been unconscious this whole time…"

"Explains that, then," he says. Amused tone of voice leaking through every word. "Nik doesn't have what you'd call a uh…self-preservation instinct. Her first and only concern is helping people who need help. And screw everything else, even her own health. Did Ren tell you she nearly died saving our entire camp when Dahlia attacked us by mistake?"

My brows lift as surprise blooms within me. "I haven't heard that story, no."

"Yeah well, Dahlia was a mage. Ren was traveling with them, we kidnapped him, yadda yadda," he gestures with his hand as if the story is of no or little consequence. "Point is, when the Entropic Fog rolled over our camp, her tent was the only one that was safe. People could walk into her tent, but not without her. They had to be touching her or something…so when she ran out and grabbed us all, dragging us inside…"

His eyes get a bit faraway. "She exposed herself to the toxic fumes and she was in bed for…days, afterward. She didn't need to. Staying in that tent, she would've been safe. But she dragged, carried or otherwise helped all of the people in that camp into her own tent. It was cramped and stifling and terrifying, but we survived till Ren could come back and…"

Coughing once, he ends the story with a shrug. "Nik wouldn't like coming out here and seeing this camp in disarray with little or no protection. I'm acting on the orders I think she'd give me if she were conscious."

I nod once, decisively. "I wish we had more space in Haven but if this is really gonna become a second village…we should definitely open up some kind of trade and labor agreement between us. Guardsmen to patrol both territories, herbs traded among us. Clothing, food."

The Lieutenant-Commander looks irritable about it, but he agrees. "Sure. But don't think I didn't notice most of the people over there are human and mages that could be useful and out here are the elves, the dwarves and the less useful magic users. If there's gonna be any trade, it's going to be fair or I don't care how many demons there are, we aren't helping you with anything."

"That's a fair condition," I reply and hold out a hand.

He blinks, almost as if surprised and reaches out to grasp my hand. We share one short shake before breaking apart.

"Lemme ask you something else," I begin. "How…how did you get this wall built without Demons ripping it down as you were doing it?"

He chuckles. "We timed the waves and moved in between them. Setting up the bare bones and leaving them behind when a new wave started. We got quiet and rode it out, then we started again. Speaking of, there's another wave starting in a few minutes. You'll want to get into position."

I straighten and nod, backing away and then slipping out of their front gates as they move in to close them behind me.

Gesturing to my men with a jerk of my head, I rush to the front of Haven with one thought on my mind.

' _If this is the kinda person the Commander of the Justicars appoints as her second in command, I can only imagine how incredible the woman herself must be._ ' Though to be honest, it wouldn't be shocking to discover that Miles is the real force behind everything. Humans take credit for their servants' accomplishments a lot.

If that woman wakes up and wows me, I'll be in awe. I mean, someone more proactive, commanding and honorable than Miles seems almost impossible to me right now. He's…different, from my men. Like he took up the mantle with the gravitas it deserves instead of the flippancy most soldiers enter armies with. For money or love of the concept of your country.

I wonder why he fights.

But if she doesn't live up to that image, I'll know who the real leader is. And that's the important part. Knowing who to talk to, to get things done.

Still, just from that one story about her from Miles…woman must have some kind of steel in her spine, that's for sure. All the stories about how sweet and small and cute she is from the servants…

Well, guess we'll find out who she  _really_  is when she wakes up.


	43. Solas POV, Varric POV

The mark bearer is a curious woman. With even curiouser followers.

Some of them believe her to be a ferocious warrior of sorts. Ardent and brave.

Others see her as a nurturing, motherly influence. Soft, kind and firm.

" _Me personally? I dunno I barely met the woman._ " The Vashoth traveling with the Justicars is the one who found her in the rubble.

"I find it hard to believe you insisted to go and find a perfect stranger," I had replied. Just like this. "Unless you are particularly virtuous, which I have no way of knowing."

She had huffed, like that. " _She saved my life. But I wasn't conscious for most of the journey to Haven and she left camp before I woke up. I had to repay that debt however I could, it was only right._ "

In short, an honorable mercenary sought to repay another honorable mercenary for their kind actions.

Look how the world turns on kindness if you simply allow it to do so.

" _Well, we both got here once she was marked and unconscious, but…_ " Varric had confided to me in an aside just earlier this morning. " _I've heard from a few separate sources that the reason she's in charge of the Justicars, is because she_ _ **rescued**_ _them. And then apparently saved the entire company's life,_ _ **again**_ _when a mage attacked their camp. Then she_ _ **recruited**_ _the mage and_ _ **her**_ _entire company and now that's the Justicars._ "

"Strange," I had replied. "That she would go to such lengths for people who were not yet sworn to her service. Why did she rescue them?"

" _That part's even weirder,_ " he'd said. " _Nobody knows. Apparently she didn't have an answer besides 'you needed rescuing' which most people can't really accept. But after spending time with her, it seems like they just…_ _ **did**_ _for some reason._ "

Hm.

I flick my wrist and banish the images as someone presses in on my space. Seeking permission to enter.

Disguising myself as a shadow, I turn to face the disturbance and open myself to it. Carefully, always carefully.

It is one of my agents within the ranks of the scouts. The highest ranking agent takes all the intelligence from lower level agents and parses it together before making a report. These reports are usually lengthy and filled with guesswork, but that is where I usually work best.

Being given the whole picture sometimes can mislead, but putting the pieces together yourself has less a chance of doing so, especially if you verify the information yourself rather than assuming you have it right the first time around.

" _Sir,_ " the scout salutes. A different salute than the human soldiers do. Something very old. " _I've gathered what information I can, and it seems the front lines are about to fall soon. If there are no new reinforcements, the Commander will have to charge up with his men personally to hold back the waves…and Haven will be left mostly defenseless until they can return._ "

Unacceptable. I cannot be caught up in this when everything comes crashing down.

" _ **Keep your eye on the camp and await further instruction. I will see what is to be done about this situation,**_ " I reply. " _ **And find whatever new information you can about the mark bearer.**_ "

"Yessir," they respond, and melt away as I release their form from my dream.

I suppose it can't be helped. As much as I would like to stay and attempt to keep the mark bearer alive, to see if there is any way to still harness its power…that could be dangerous. I could be caught up in an attack on the Village. She may die anyway.

Sighing to myself and rubbing my forehead with my fingertips, I awaken.

It is not often I wake with a headache, but I see this is one of those days.

Curling into a sitting position on the cot I was afforded in the dungeon, I take one last look at the woman lain out on the stuffed mattress- one of the only they had to spare -and wash my hands of her recovery.

I've done all I can. She will either recover or she will not. And as she has yet to wake…I gather she will not.

Galling to admit, after so many mistakes that I cannot fix this one. But I will move on and life will continue. I will find a way to seal these rifts or…

Or I will leave. I suppose. I haven't the faintest idea where I might go to escape it. Across the sea perhaps? If I go far enough will the veil end somewhere?

I do hate the sea…but if it is necessary, I will not hesitate.

What I must do now, is examine the rifts further. Compare my notes from before entering Haven, see if the changes can tell me anything. And then get as far from Haven as I possibly can.

Picking up my pack and slinging it on, I grasp my staff and flinch.

It's begun to splinter. I will need a new one soon. Or I will need to learn to contain the powers I hold enough to keep it from breaking in my grasp after a few uses.

After a year of being awake, I still find it difficult to completely adjust. I have been able to make do, as of yet. But soon I may need more than simple makeshift strategy and action.

 

* * *

 

Varric POV

When I saw Chuckles sneaking out of the village with nothing but his pack and his staff, heading off in the direction of the Breach…well, I knew I had to follow. It was all too familiar.

"You followed me," Chuckles says. Staring me down. "Why?"

I got caught. Sharp, this one.

"I know the look of someone about to do somethin' dangerous and when I saw you were going alone, I figured it couldn't hurt to give you some backup." I glance aside at the still smoking remains of a tree that had hidden a demon behind it just a minute ago. "Though I guess you're a lot more capable than most mages. I mean, apostates usually are."

"If you understand that, you understand I do not require your assistance," he insists.

"I don't know about requiring, but it couldn't hurt, now could it?" I ask. Then add in a muttered aside, "plus I could use some time away from the Book-stabber…"

His entire demeanor instantly changes. It's funny to watch. "Ah, well far be it from me to refuse such a generous offer."

This guy is such a little shit.

I had a feeling he was only saying no because he didn't wanna imply he needed help. Some people and their egos…

"So where are we headed, the Breach?" I ask as I trudge up next to him.

"Perhaps, but for now, I need to find a rift," he replies. "Any rift would do. I will measure the readings I am able to glean from them against those I found further from Haven before I arrived in the Crossroads- the naturally occurring sort. Then I will compare these to those closer to the Breach, if I can."

"What about the Commander?" I ask. "She doin' alright?"

"No," he replies. "I doubt she will survive. With or without assistance. The Lieutenant will tend to her in my absence."

"That's…kind of terrible, Chuckles," I say. "What are we gonna do without her? And that…mark she has? It was supposed to be some kinda clue."

"It was, just…not in the way we were hoping," he replies. A sad smile curves across his mouth for a moment before disappearing. "I will find some way to fix this…or we will all die, I suppose."

"You're awfully calm about that," I observe. "But you seem calm about most things. Especially things like this."

"Things like this?" he prompts.

"The Fade leaking out into the world. Even Mages are freakin' out about that. But not you," I say. "And there were some other things. I heard you talkin' to some people in Haven about Spirits and Demons and they seemed pretty scandalized. You didn't seem all that concerned with their reactions."

"Should I have been?" he asks.

"Most would've been," I reply. "But not you. And I wonder why that is."

"Hm," he hums. "Perhaps I simply do not care what they think."

"Perhaps you're acting like you've got nothing to fear because you figure we're all gonna die anyway," I take a stab in the dark.

He chuckles. "If I'd thought  _that,_ I would not be here."

"Yeah I suppose the world ending would-" I halt when he reaches out a hand in the air in front of me and stops in his tracks. "Another, already?"

He listens intensely for a moment. "The pulses are becoming faster…I wasn't certain before it was by so small a margin…the Breach is getting bigger."

"Shit. Did you tell anyone about that?" we just left Haven, and I don't think he's going to want to turn around.

"I told the Seeker of my suspicions. It will become clear in the next few hours that I was correct. As it slowly accelerates faster and faster, the Breach noticeably widening." He says. Staring up even as a couple demons drift onto the path ahead of us. Mostly shades and wraiths.

"Alright, I'll take the guys on the right?" I ask as I pull Bianca back into my arms. "Just don't burn down any more trees. Last thing we need right now is a forest fire."

"I would have to put more effort in to burn the entire forest," he says. Shrugging his shoulder and somehow flipping his staff off his back, over his shoulder and into his hand. "It took enough just to burn the one tree that I might need to eat soon."

"Well that's a relief I guess, that you can't just accidentally cause more chaos in the middle of a torrential downpour of demons, but why?" I take aim and fire an incendiary shot into the clustered midst of shades.

It makes a loud crackling noise when it goes off.

"These trees are covered in snow. Snow turns to water when you melt it. Water is a fire deterrent," he says it slow as he spins and twirls the staff around his body. Switching hands, flourishing- not overly showy as styles go, but still…

I get the sense he's showing off. Not for anybody, just…in general.

"Right, right," sounds like the very simple lectures Blondie and Daisy used to give me and Isabela when we didn't understand why they couldn't just snap their fingers and make something happen. "Well, we're not getting there any faster just standin' around talking. Let's go."

Chuckles smirks to himself as we forge up the path, past the rapidly deteriorating demon bodies and says, "do, let's."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if those transitions in Solas's POV seem weird, but I really wanted to emphasize how the Fade and Waking seem like kind of the same thing to him, so there's no huge transition-y sequence for him.


	44. Tevea POV, Nik POV

Ohh it's been  _days_  since we found the Lady Commander of the Justicar Order- as some entirely too proper types have been referring to her in their gossip…and she hasn't woken even once.

There were mutterings in her sleep, thrashing at times when she was most agitated, but no waking.

And now the only person that could help her has gone off on some errand or other, leaving myself to tend to her as Lieutenant Ren is…well, rather occupied at the moment. He can't waste time and energy trying to heal her when all it will really do is fill her up with magic…which is bad?

I don't understand half the things he tried to explain to me, but apparently he can't just lay a spell over her all willy-nilly.

Figures that a woman like her would be so fragile, I guess. She's too thin and pale. Even the Nobility of Ferelden have some color in their cheeks, but even before she was in this long sleep, she was…well. Like freshly fallen snow. You can see those little blue veins under her skin very easily.

Just doesn't seem healthy.

Well, it's fine that no one else is here about now. It's time to wash her off, anyhow. Havin' a bunch of men hoverin' just outside the door is bad enough- and they do _hover_ …

Picking up one of her arms, I use a nice, warm cloth that's been wet and wrung to scrub very gently at her skin.

As far as duties go, this is a rather light one. I like to take my time so I don't have to get back to…everything else, quite so quickly.

Seeing that much death and pain, and having to clean up the worst of the mess- not only blood and bile but…

It's just all too much. It's so much work just to keep this place clean and keep everyone alive and…

Swallowing roughly, I move on to her other arm and try to keep my breathing even. After all, crying about it won't change anything. I can't just leave here, I'll surely die. Even if I could, I wouldn't leave my friends and many of them are pretty chummy with some of the soldiers and the other servants- if we left we'd have to take them with us.

And the soldiers are certainly not free to go.

I lean on the bed, sinking down on the mattress next to her as a wave of dizziness overcomes me.

Everything spins just a bit, so I close my eyes and squeeze Nik's hand, to center myself.

My eyes pop open with shock when I feel her squeeze back.

Her own are fluttering very slowly open.

Silently I watch her in complete stillness as she blinks away a few tears, scrunching up her face at the light of the sun coming through the window. "Nn…ngh…"

"Nik?" I move suddenly forward and lean over her to block the light so she can see my face. "Can you see me? Can you hear me?"

"T…vea?" she asks weakly with a confused expression. "'s…s'g…n…on?"

"I'll get Lieutenant Ren!" I stand up and rush for the door. "Stay awake, my lady!"

 

* * *

 

Nik POV

' _Ugggghhhh, do we have to do this_  now?' I grumble silently to myself while finishing the last of an entire goblet of tea.

"You  _will_  explain yourself!" Cassandra commands and slams her hands on the table. And it  _hurts_  me.

I've had enough.

So I stand up and throw my goblet out the damn doorway and hold one finger up at Cassandra as it makes a crashing noise down the hall. Not as loud as she is but definitely loud enough to still make me wince.

She moves around the table as I speak to loom over me and look threatening. She's  _very_  close.

"See? I can be obnoxiously loud and destructive too. Stop trying to measure  _dicks_ and be considerate of my pounding headache if you  _actually_  want any kind of coherent response. Otherwise I swear to god I will curl up in a ball on this floor-" I point down at the floor next to me "-and you will hear shit from me till I inevitably keel over from oversensitivity." I don't shout. I don't speak emphatically. I state the facts, calmly- well, other than throwing that empty goblet.

She's still just glaring and not moving.

So I lean in a little and tilt up my chin. "If you're going to try and intimidate me, Cassandra- you'll need better tactics. My parents were really good at glaring down at me with a threat of violence in their eyes."

I settle back into my seat when I'm done with the game she wants to play and have stopped glaring back at her. "And sometimes it wasn't just a threat." I'm totally rational right now, but that might not last if she goes around banging on the walls.

Cassandra moves around the table once again after pausing to glare at me some more and then sits down across from me. Much more quietly this time, though I suppose that could be just her rage manifesting as a stonewall.

"Now first of all, I understand the situation is dire," I begin. Trying not to vomit with the effort of speaking. "But I also understand that apparently this," I point to my left hand where the mark is sputtering away. "Is important. And I don't know  _exactly_  what it is? But I know it's magic."

Cassandra is still staying silent, giving me the stink eye.

"What I remember from before everything went dark was like…ugh, what was it?" I use one of my hands to prop up my head by cupping my face and leaning on my elbow. "That morning we were turning down sheets…I'd gotten reports of a Grey Warden…and then…"

Honestly. Nothing. I know what I'm  _supposed_  to remember. Corypheus, the Divine…all of it, I know intellectually what is supposed to be there.

But it's all a huge blank. I knew that was gonna happen, but it's still unnerving as fuck.

"Well, that's a problem," I groan.

"What is?" Cassandra snaps.

I lift my head to glare at her balefully in silence.

She inhales deeply and then exhales as if I'm the most difficult person in the world and then repeats more quietly, a bit through gritted teeth. " _What_. Is. A. Problem?"

"Well first of all, I know what I was  _going to do_. But my memory of that plan being carried out is entirely gone." I reply. "Not lost. Gone. Stolen. It's like someone scooped it out of my head. I can remember everything before it with perfect clarity. There's no degradation as time goes on, no fuzziness. Just darkness in my mind."

"Meaning what?" she asks.

There's a sound that's amplified in the hallway, that I think might belong to Leliana. It's the faintest footstep and I can only pick up like one for every five steps she takes, and even then I think it's because she's being careless.

"Meaning I was right," I reply. "I had heard reports and gathered information on some important Tevinter mage or other, someone who'd been in the south for quite some time so I'd heard tell- gathering influential people around him but not willingly gathering them, if you catch my drift?"

Cassandra sits up straighter.

The footstep noises have stopped.

"You going to join us, lady Nightingale?" I call out to the door.

The door slips almost silently open for a slight creak, to allow the passage of Leliana. Slim and ginger, as always.

"You heard me, then. I will assume your skills are a result of training, but the question is, where were you trained?"

See, I was worried she might not look even remotely the same because between Cassandra and the new Commander who greeted me and escorted me to an interrogation room- I wasn't sure anyone was who they were supposed to be.

Delrin Barris! He actually makes sense as the Commander of the Inquisition forces. I mean, Cullen was the favorite and he was privileged by his superiors to some extent so it made sense why he'd be here in terms of nepotism and corruption but…

One has to wonder…

"I wasn't," I reply. "I grew up in a house with some very nasty people who got even nastier if you disturbed their rest at night. I learned young to stay quiet and be alert."

"One might question why you were up in the night," she says.

"One might come out and ask like a normal person and one might learn I have chronic insomnia," I reply.

"Enough! Tell us about this mage," Cassandra thankfully says this at an almost-normal volume so I don't have to glare or clam up this time. I hate having to train people to treat me like a person…

Her face is much more muscular, with a square jaw and jutting cheekbones- same as her game face but also not the same? Much rougher-looking. Still breathtakingly beautiful, though. I suppose she  _is_  still a princess. They usually turn eugenics of a sort to keep their line as pure and strong as possible. Which usually includes making their princesses and queens the most beautiful in the land.

Or at least that's my assumption of my own world's royals. I have no  _idea_ how Nevarra does things…

"Alright, well…" I cough and clear my throat, wincing at the burn in my esophagus and the throbbing in my head. "I don't know much more about it except that he was going to 'visit' the Divine. I figured he probably had something sinister in mind, and I couldn't just let him like…puppeteer or murder the Divine to create chaos, so I figured I'd do something."

"And why not inform the guards?" Cassandra asks. "Why not say anything to anyone? Why leave your forces outside Haven?"

"My dear Seeker, you assume all too much," I say. Having entirely too much fun right now. I need to do something to keep my mind off the pain, so fuck it. "Firstly you assume I only devised this plan after gaining said forces- or that I gained such forces to  _serve_  my plan, but neither of these things are true."

Leliana is watching me with glittering, interested eyes. But Cassandra still glares menacingly.

"In fact, I'd put this plan into motion the second I heard about all this and was able to get where I needed to go to start my journey toward Haven. The forces happened. The end. I helped them, now they help me for some reason. They seem to think I'm some kind of leader-type but really all I've been is kinda loud and bossy. If that's what 'charisma' is, I'm gonna be  _so_  disappointed." I say. "You also assume the guards and Templars and such would listen to me. I had to do things the way I did or no one would've gone up to check on the Divine at the time I was certain she was visiting with the bespelled Grey Wardens."

"Bespelled," Leliana says. Sitting next to Cassandra now, and leaning forward, elbows on the table with her hands clasped before her. A very 'villainess' look. "How do you know this?"

"Like I said before, I have sources and reports." I reply. "Also, the Gray Wardens might be more political than anyone thinks but the whole lot of them would die before selling Ferelden out to a Tevinter. At least not on purpose, anyway." I mutter the last part, but really only because I'm perfectly aware that the whole 'Erimond' thing is probably still happening.

"So your subterfuge and tricks were intended to bring about a result, but what result  _were_  you intending to bring about?" Leliana asks.

"Don't do the repeating thing, I hate that," I groan. "I have a limited amount of talking energy right now and you're gonna waste all of it. I still need to know what exactly happened and where my people are. I've already told you everything once, I'm not going through it all again until after you reciprocate."

"You-!" Cassandra slams her hands on the table and stands again.

I'm already on the floor, curled into a ball by the time she makes it to her feet. Hands clamped over my ears.

"Cassandra," Leliana cautions. "Violence in this situation would not be helpful to us. We still must take her to the Rift."

"Who's afraid of violence?" I call brokenly. "She won't stop making noise and I feel like my body is ripping apart, WHICH INCLUDES MY  _HEAD_." I shout that last part while curling into a tighter ball. "Ugh…I'm gonna throw up. I warned you this would happen."

"Leliana, I've had enough with this-" Cassandra makes a grunting noise and I hear her armor rustle, so I think she's gesturing at me pretty emphatically. "She refuses to be cooperative at every turn."

"Liar," I reply. "You're the one trying to intimidate me when it's not even necessary. How are you any kind of interrogator if you can't even read your subject?"

"Cassandra, you still have preparations to make. We have very few resources to spend on this last march up to the Temple. Do not waste time here. I will send her out to you when it is time to take her to the Rift." Leliana dismisses Cassandra.

Then a very stompy Seeker leaves the room and once her loud-ass footsteps are far enough away, I sigh in relief. "Thank you." It comes out weak, but hey it's the thought that counts.

"Can you sit up?" She asks.

"Sure…just as soon…as the room stops…sp…inning…" I shove myself into a sitting position, closing my eyes tight and hugging my knees as my entire world whirls. "Ugh, god…"

"You weren't joking," Leliana says. Coming around the side of the table to kneel down on my level. "You are turning green, you know."

I flip her the bird in response and she giggles.

"I am assuming that is a rude gesture," she says. "I suppose I would also feel quite rude in your position."

"What? Being interrogated by people who should rightfully be trying to take care of and reassure me? You've got no evidence that I was ever involved in whatever happened. In fact you've got  _conflicting_  evidence that says I was helping, or trying to- and yet you ignore it in favor of your personal feelings." I lift my head and give her a look. "And I know good cop, bad cop, you know. Maybe if you tried just a normal person talking to your subjects first, you'd get better results. Lots of people clam up under pressure, others can't handle friendliness from strangers. You have to tailor it to your subject."

She nods very slowly as she listens to me. "You seem to know much about it," she observes.

"There was like…a lot of books, on a lot of subjects, back home." I err on the side of caution- I hate lying but twisting facts too much… "We'd done extensive research into interrogation, medical research, etcetera. But the records were open to the public. It's not much and I didn't learn all of it- but I got the gist."

"And your people's research stated that knowing your subject and tailoring the interrogation to them, was the best approach?" she asks.

"You should already know this," I reply grumpily. "Stop testing me. I'm just well-read. I can't fight worth shit, which anyone in the Justicars can tell you. So where are my people?"

She hums, while staring into my eyes. "We have the ones who originally came with you in Haven. Others who came after the explosion, looking for you- brought refugees. We couldn't take all of them. But Lieutenant Ren and the other Justicars had left a small fortified area behind that we could send them to. It was not much, but it kept them out of the cold and mostly protected them from the demons. And then your Lieutenant-Commander arrived-"

"Miles is here?" I blink. "How long was I out?"

"A few days," she replies. "He seems to have taken charge of the camp and they are…much better off than they were before."

I grin, "yeah he's good at thinking around problems. He didn't understand why I'd made him my Lieutenant to begin with, but you get it, right?"

She hums again in affirmation. "I do. He is quite competent. It seems you've a talent for finding it. As Lieutenant Ren is the only man, mage or otherwise, I've seen stand up to Seeker Cassandra."

I giggle a little, I can't help it. "I wish I could've seen that."

She opens her mouth to speak again, but the running footsteps of someone in the hallway draws her attention. She stands and waits for the door to be slammed open.

I groan and curl in a ball, but try to listen to what's going on, even if my head  _is_  throbbing…

"Lady Nightingale, we've got more Justicars! And…and a legion of mages and civilians- and Bann Teagan!" Says whoever it is. A scout?

I sit straight up when I comprehend what they just said. "Redcliffe's been evacuated? Are Dahlia and Navette there? Or did they part ways before then? I need to see them!" I say very emphatically.

Leliana gives me a very long stare and nods once. "Scout, get all the Justicar Lieutenants from outside the gates and within the small settlement outside Haven and bring them to the front gate. Bann Teagan should be taken in, with his people, but we haven't the space. Tell them they will have to stay in the settlement as well. If there's room."

"There will be when I'm done talking to everyone," I reply.

Miles has done a great job leading so far but there is no way in hell I'm going up that mountain with Cassandra,  _alone_.


	45. Dahlia POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Only two updates this week, unwritten and A new order because I feel terrible and I couldn't finish a third. Ugh...

The moment I see Nik walking around unaided and with a clear look in her eyes, I feel a wave of relief sweep over my body.

Somehow I'd convinced myself that she was dead all this time. That huge explosion was definitely over the temple, but if she's been in the Village all that time, then I worried for nothing!

I rush forward to stand next to the Grand Enchanter and Bann Teagan- and while Fiona gives me a reproachful look, Teagan is approving. Even sparing me a smile as Nik, some very tall and angry looking woman- and Ren!

"Ren, you're alright!" I dunno what came over me, really I just sort of…popped over and threw my arms around him. It's a few moments before I realize I'm hugging him and by that time I'm so embarrassed I could die.

I pull away and step back to stand in line with the Grand Enchanter and Bann Teagan, feeling I've somehow disgraced my position. Professional Justicar Lieutenants shouldn't behave that way, should they?

Peeking up from the ground I've been staring at while the rest of the party approached, I see Ren with a confused look on his face and Nik…seems amused.

"We're glad to see you in one piece, too," she says and then steps across the divide between us to pull me suddenly into her arms. "Anybody who thought their friends were dead all week would probably react the same way. If they didn't, I'd question they were ever really friends."

Ah, my lady…

Her embrace is firm and warm, but I can feel her shivering. I pull back and grasp her shoulders. "Are you cold? You are shaking."

She snorts a bit at that. "I kind of blew up. Or well, part of me blew up, apparently." And then she holds her hand aloft, showing off…a very strange glowing mark in the palm of her hand. Like a fissure in her palm that-

Oh!

"This is the energy we sensed, Fiona!" I turn and gesture her forward. "That big hole in the sky is too far away to be what we were sensing."

The Grand Enchanter steps forward to examine Nik's palm with me. Nik stands stoic and allows our scrutiny even as the angry looking woman beside her clears her throat and addresses Ban Teagan.

"Bann Teagan, I have heard that you had to evacuate Redcliffe after an attack on the city but our sources were not clear on what happened and why you had to abandon it," she says.

He sighs deeply and replies. "Templars. Rogues, too many of them to count. Unconcerned with innocent bystanders as far as I could see. They killed many before we could get the gates shut. And many more when they broke them open."

"Each time we barricaded the entrance," Fiona intones next to me. "And each time they broke through yet again."

"I was not speaking to you, Mage." The woman says in a stern tone. "When I ask for your report-"

"Shove your superiority complex up your ass, Cassandra," Lady Nik says. Very flatly. "That's Fiona, the Grand Enchanter of her circle and Leader of the Mage Rebellion. Show respect for her station if nothing else."

"I am used to Chantry Folk and their…" Fiona pauses for a moment to think of an appropriate term. "Attitudes, toward mages. I can defend myself well enough."

"If that's what you want," Nik replies easily. "I'll wait for you to say something next time before jumping in. I've been hearing shit all morning that's got me on edge and time is already wonky for me." She grimaces.

"I can imagine," Bann Teagan says sympathetically. "The world seems to be on the verge of ending, it all must be very upsetting for you."

The angry lady that Nik called 'Cassandra' seems to be silently fuming.

"Oh that?" Nik asks with a blink. "No we've got plans for that, even if they fall through I'm good with plans. Plans are good. What upsets me is the rampant abuse I've seen all over the place. Servants getting beaten, mages being overworked with absolutely no consideration, women getting groped in broad daylight and nobody stepping up to do shit to stop it but me."

Bann Teagan's face flushes, but I think it's with anger. He doesn't look very embarrassed, at least. "I understand how that could also be upsetting. I am very sorry to say I haven't even broken my own men of the desire to carouse like a pack of dogs."

"Get them fixed," she replies in a deadpan while lifting an eyebrow.

"Nik!" 'Cassandra' scolds.

But Bann Teagan laughs loudly. "I suppose I should! After all, those insistent upon acting like dogs should be treated like one. I do detest harming those in my employ, though."

"That speaks well of you," she replies. "It would speak even better of you if you were able to muscle past that and do the justice that is necessary no matter how distasteful you find it. I hate hurting people but I will  _suplex_  a fucker if he touches one of my girls."

"Bann Teagan." 'Cassandra' cuts into the conversation with gritted teeth. "If you would follow me to the War Room, we will brief you and receive your report?"

"Are the Commander and Grand Enchanter joining us?" he asks.

She looks put off by the question but jerks her head in a nod. "I must watch Nik, and the Grand Enchanter may have answers to questions we-"

"My Lady!" Navette shoves her way through the throng and arrives at the front with us. "Thank the Maker you're alright. These damn mages have almost gotten  _us_  killed so many times since you left us, do we really have to keep them even now? We could just leave this mess behind us, couldn't we? It's theirs anyway, they should clean it up."

She's nearly bursting with all the things she's wanted to say to Nik since since our journey began. It's all basically a mash of things she's been complaining about the whole journey here. It…irritates me to hear her be so bold and loud about it here, though.

There is a dead silence as Nik stares into Navette's face with flat eyes. "Navette, report to my cabin, one of the servants will show you. We have shit to talk about before I leave."

Navette startles at the rare severity of her Lady's tone but bows and salutes deferentially as if addressing a Noble Lady and a Military Commander at the same time. "I will go now, My Lady."

Navette moves away from the group and Nik takes a deep breath, counting in a low voice until she's certain Navette is far enough away.

Ren mutters something to himself as she goes that sounds like ' _someone_ ' _s_  in deep shit…'

Then she moves forward, toward the grouping of mages that came with us and-

And bows. At the waist. Very low. "My apologies for the actions of my Lieutenant. I thought she'd come into her own as a leader, but it seems I was mistaken about what her role should be. Any discomfort you experienced while having to put up with her is entirely my fault."

"It's not your fault that Navette is an ass, My Lady-" I stop and nearly choke on my words.

I can't believe I just said 'ass' to my Commander.

Nik stands straight and tall once again and turns to me. "I'm her leader and her teacher. If she has failed it is because I failed her first. Ass or no."

"We must move quickly, we-" Cassandra tries to usher us all inside Haven but-

Nik screams and falls to her knees. The mark on her hand rippling with power and- and the hole in the sky, it's…it's widening!

"This has been happening since she woke, we must move quickly to get her to the Rift, which means we cannot delay our talks any further!" Cassandra shouts over the loud booming of the hole in the sky.

She stomps over to where Ren and I are holding her up and swings her into her arms. "Aggghhh! It hurts!"

The sound of Nik's voice pinched in pain and fear is almost enough to make my heart break.

"Alright, quickly then!" Bann Teagan gestures for myself and Fiona to follow them. "Is there any place our people might go? I heard that Haven was full and they were refusing Refugees. Sending them somewhere else. Where?"

Ah, we met people coming up the path who'd refused the other shelter. Something about it being poorly managed and something of a sty? I'll take anything if it means I have some sort of bed or pallet to lie on and perhaps barricades for our soldiers to use to defend us with.

Cassandra gestures with her head toward the side of Haven, off to where the walls bend around the side of the village. "Around there. You'll find it without issue."

Bann Teagan instructs one of his men to offer his assistance wherever they go for guard rotations and to keep the civilians safe.

Fiona had backed away when Nik started screaming. Watching her with wide, suspicious eyes. Now she turns and addresses the mages. "Make camp not far from here. We will likely not be staying. You all know how by now."

She turns and follows after Cassandra as she carries Nik into Haven. The screaming has stopped but she's now somewhat limp in the woman's arms and it alarms me.

I step forward but stop and realize that there is a group of Justicars and recruits clustering up behind me as the other groups leave. They're awaiting orders.

So I turn and run over to grab Ren by the arm when I see him rushing after Nik and the others. "Where do I put the Justicars?"

He pauses only long enough to point where Bann Teagan's men were going. "Give them to Miles."

" _Miles_  is here!?"

Best news I've heard all day. I can stop playing secret leader.


	46. Navette POV, Nik POV

Well, apparently I stepped in it.

Lady Nik is as protective of the Mages as she ever was. Still don't get why. All I could hear when she was trying to explain it to me is 'blah blah mages are oppressed so you should let them get away with shite, blah blah you can't talk down to them because their widdle feelings will get hurt'. My Lady is a soft-hearted woman, that is for certain.

Still can't understand how she can order executions for anyone who molests, rapes or otherwise sexually harms another person in our camps- especially children- and then turn around and have such sympathy for murderous snakes like  _Dahlia_  her royal highness, princess of Rebel Mages.

Suppose I just have to accept that My Lady has a soft spot for Mages and try to keep her out of trouble with 'em.

I  _am_ excited about my new position she talked about.

( _For now, just guard Haven with the other soldiers. I've got a job to do and we'll talk more at length later, but I have this feeling like leadership isn't what you're meant for. I think you'd do better in a solitary position, at least for now._ )

I'm a bit upset I'm not to be a leader anymore, but she can't be  _that_  upset with me if I'm not being demoted or kicked out, right? She just acted like she thought I'd be better suited to somethin' else.

Why is it she said I was bad at leadership? 'Blah blah, you can't talk about your charges like that even though they're bein' whiny babies, blah blah' somethin' or other I think.

"Hold the line here! Don't let them through!" I'm far back behind the first few lines of defense, but I can still hear the commanders at the front shouting orders. That's good. I'll hear when they need us to rush up.

Each wave isn't many demons, and it doesn't last long- and there's big pauses between 'em. But we have to keep switching out defenders so nobody's too banged up or exhausted. I haven't gotten to kill much since Lady Nik left. Just a rage demon and some shades. But it's been good practice for fighting demons.

It's different than fighting people, that's for certain.

( _Don't let anyone harass the servants. Make it clear, privately, that the head servant is not to beat or harass the servants under him unless he wants to deal directly with me- or possibly your blade, whichever comes first._ )

Now that's somethin' I can get behind. Hard workin' folk needing protection from something. Even if it's something I don't really think is all that out of the ordinary, I mean- what's she enforcin' here? You can't discipline people who work for you for messin' up?

Whatever, if the Lady says so, there's got to be a purpose. There's no mages involved in this one so there must be a lesson to be learned here somewhere. Already did that job earlier. Had that head servant shakin' in his boots the second I mentioned the Justicar Commander. Somethin' about her scares him. Dunno what.

Something following the Lady has taught me is she thinks everything she does should teach you somethin'. I've started to look back over things she did before and try to figure them out. She's just difficult to figure, though.

Miles manages to do it somehow, that's obvious. Otherwise he wouldn't be directly under her in the chain of command.

I used to be friends with Miles, but once the Lady showed up and started instructing and everythin'…we sort of fell out of touch with each other even though we were in the same camp. Miles never took to my flirting which just made me like him more. He always talked to me like I was his friend, and not a piece of ass like I was used to back in Orlais with Mum.

Oh they were always real cultured about it, talking about my 'heaving bosom' with the most flowery language possible. If I was real lucky they focused on my eyes and my hair instead but I wasn't usually that lucky.

Lady Nik said Miles is around and will be back with her when they're done sealin' that Breach in the sky. I can ask him then, if he'll teach me to understand the Lady's ways. Maybe he'll be busy but I bet an extra pair of hands to help him work will free up at least his tongue.

 

* * *

 

Nik POV

"Is she going to be like this the whole way to the Rift?" I can hear Cassandra asking Ren as we walk along the path.

"Slightly loopy? Yeah. Probably," he replies.

"I'm not loopy, I'm tipsy!" I respond and promptly lose my balance for no reason at all.

Arisala's hand darts out quick and steadies me. "Watch your feet, Commander."

"Pretty sure that'd make it worse," I reply. "Is the world wobbly or am I? Cause…cause I dunno with the Breach…"

"It's you," Miles sighs and walks up next to me. Hooking my arm with his own. "Here. Now you won't  _totally_  fall over."

I giggle a little, "thanks!"

"So why are we all here, again?" Ren asks. "I mean, I understand bringing me, I'm one of your two healers and I might be needed. But why Miles and Arisala?"

"I asked to come," Arisala replies.

"And I wanted Miles to protect me from Cassandra," I say. Frankly and openly.

"You do not need protection from  _me_ ," Cassandra grumps.

"Do so!" I chime. "You were bein' mean to me in the dungeons!"

Being alone with an angry person yelling at me a lot might make me cry. People are less likely to do that in groups. I feel so emotional right now, the slightest thing might set me off, no matter how good my control has become in recent years…

"Considering the fact you are our main suspect in a  _terrorist_  investigation, I believe I was being rather  _civil_ ," she grits.

"If tha's your idea of civil, I feel bad for your friends," I reply. "Was that a rude thing to say? I feel like that was rude."

"That was definitely rude, but she probably deserved it," Miles replies. "You hardly get mad at anybody, even Dahlia and she tried to kill you. What'd she do?"

"I interrogated her, that is  _all_ ," Cassandra snaps back. "I even attempted to do as she asked and lower my voice when it was apparent she was in pain."

"Liar. You made noise to hurt me, then made me feel like you were doing me a favor by being quiet, then made a loud noise again even though it made me nauseous and it hurt!" I ramble in a quivery little voice. "At least Dahlia was tryin' to rescue somebody. All you wanted was to hurt me because you were mad about stuff."

The whole group subsides into awkward silence.

I feel like that was my fault but I can't put my finger on why. I told the truth and I used the right words, right? Did I do the thing where I say a truth other people don't wanna hear again? I'm always doin' that! Why is it so bad to say things like that anyway?

I'd get it if I was wrong, but nobody ever says 'you're wrong' and then tells me why and how. They just insist I'm wrong without explaining. Which sometimes means- not always -that I'm right and they don't like it.

I don't think I'm wrong this time.

"Hey, look, a bridge-" Ren points ahead. "Does that mean we're halfway there? I remember you mentioning that as a landmark."

Cassandra lets out a loud sigh, "yes. That is the halfway mark for our trek up to the Rift. Thank the Maker this is nearly halfway over."

A bridge…I remember the bridge…but why do I remember the bridge? I know…something important…something…in a box?

Oh! It's where the inquisitor gets their weapons, right? And was there potions or something? I don't…everything is so fuzzy when Magic is filling me up like this…

As we approach the end of the Bridge we're nearest to, I start to feel the mark build up energy again. I dunno why I can tell when it's gonna explode again now, but I can.

So I stop and cling to Miles's side tightly. "It's happening again!"

And as the mark starts to pulse again and the Breach with it- I remember suddenly why the Bridge is important.

Grabbing hold of Miles' hand instead, I dash off of the very edge of the bridge, shouting for everyone to get away from it, now! I can't really hear myself over the pounding in my ears.

And then there's a crash and a bang and I'm lying face down in the snow for a while, trying to stop the world from spinning.

"...-ik! Nik! Can you…-ear…"

Voices drift in and out around me. Everything is very wibbly-wobbly and strange.

Then I'm being lifted into a sitting position and smacked very lightly on my cheeks a few times. The pain isn't much but it does focus me on one point of pain instead of my whole body- so the world comes into focus again.

Miles is kneeling in front of me, he's the slapper I think. Just hard enough to sting, not hard enough to really hurt. I don't like slapping people who are hurt but I don't think they know of any alternatives…I should be teaching them that stuff…

"Just carry her!" I can hear Cassandra shouting. "We can't stay here, we-"

I look over to see what cut her off and blink at the much-higher amount of demons attacking us than I remember being normal.

' _What, are we in nightmare mode!?_ '

"Miles cover her flank!" I reach out and grasp his shoulder. "She can't watch her own back! And Arisala- what's your thing? What do you do?"

Ren is mostly covering Cassandra with healing spells in between trying to check me out and make sure I'm not broken.

Arisala is tossing out spells of fire and ice left and right. "Necromancy is my specialty but-"

Oooh, wait, didn't necromancy hurt spirits? "If you think we're being overwhelmed, use it." I tell her. "But if you think we can do without- throw a barrier over the warriors and just try to maintain it."

"You are not in charge here," Cassandra bellows as she strikes down a rage demon.

And then Miles steps up behind her and cuts down the shade that was about to claw her from behind. "It's not like she was givin'  _you_  orders, your 'holiness'. We're all Justicars. You mind  _your_  business and we'll mind ours."

Ooohhh I don't think Cassandra liked that.

"Or we can work together to stop the world from ending and stop acting like a bunch of children," Ren calls out into the fray. "That option works best for me, personally!"

I think even Miles might've felt the parental disapproval in that one, cause he flinches a little and there aren't any demons close enough to be responsible at that precise moment.

"Oooh, what he said!" I chime energetically. "Also, how are we getting over the broken bridge now?"

Cassandra growls and keeps hacking away at demons, not answering. I wouldn't really expect an answer, anyway, I just kinda wanted the question out there so people'd think about it.

I wish I could fight and help protect everyone, or…or if I was a mage I could use magic and make a barrier or-

Something inside me feels like it's breaking, but it's not the Breach widening this time.

"Agh!" I choke on a scream.

"Nik!" Ren pulls me in close and tries to shield my body from whatever is happening to me with a barrier around my body, but it doesn't take- in fact his barrier is  _broken_  as  _something_  explodes out of my whole body…but mostly, I think, my left hand…


	47. Solas POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I spaced this week after writing two updates for this story so that's all I'm updating this week, I guess.
> 
> I'm so tired and I've been binging Star Trek Discovery. I thought that was important to say for some reason.

"I think we should head back, Chuckles. We're gonna get overwhelmed soon, and…I don't think you're makin' much headway there," Varric observes.

I stand before the rift, fists clenched and head bowed as I struggle to accept that I cannot… _fix_  this.

Everything I have done, was in vain. When the Veil comes down now, it will be with fire and flood and ice. It will not be a controlled descent and it will not discriminate between Elves and Humans, Dwarves and Qunari- it will not even spare the Mages or the Spirits.

Every plan I have ever made has ended this way, I do not know why I continue to be surprised.

Now I have to get away from here, which means either slipping away from Varric or following him to the Village and escaping from  _there_ …I do not like either option. Varric has been watching me, interested in what I do and why.

I know he is a storyteller and tends to fixate on details…but of what importance will I be in the end? Someone who failed to save the last hope for Thedas- or even if I did, I would simply be one of two healers.

Something about his interest irks me, though I am delighted to have the conversation and the stories. I know there is no way for him to discover who I am and yet my back feels as though it's against a wall nonetheless.

"Chuckles, get away from it!" he calls out as the Rift fluctuates once again.

I take a step back, assisted with a slight fade-step and breathe deeply once I see this wave is larger than the others. "Retreat may be our only option," I say.

"Gonna have to run  _now_ , then-"

"Rrrragh!" A roar from behind us and as we turn to look, the Seeker overtakes us with her shield held aloft. Charging into the demons with all the force of a stampeding Druffalo.

"You know," a whimsical voice interjects as he trots along behind her. "It'd be helpful if we had about a hundred corpses fighting with us right now."

"Not unless we're about to die," another voice from further back.

Cradled gently in the arms of- is that…Arisala, was it? And in her arms is…

"Ha-hey!" Varric calls out with cheer. "The little Lady's awake!"

"I am not!" she speaks very deliberately as she sits up a bit in the Qunari's arms. "A Lady!"

That person before, I recognize his description from reports- that is the Lieutenant-Commander of the Justicar order.

Watching him fight, I do not see anything particularly special about his skill level. He seems to be a novice, in fact.

Then he uses his superior agility and flexibility to climb a broken wall nearby, and scramble over it.

When the demon comes looking for him, he rushes out the other side, just as it comes around the edge.

The demon is not clever enough to double back around- it must go around the whole side of the wall to reach him once again.

And he is already engaging another attacking the Seeker from behind. Drawing its attention and…leading it another direction where he climbs a slight incline and waits for the Shade to glide up to him before pouncing upon it with a powerful strike of his sword.

There is definitely potential there, I see that much at least. He has found the least-dangerous way to face a Demon without consciousness. Keep it at a distance, harry it with small attacks and when necessary, strike it down with a strong blow as quickly as possible.

"You could put me down, you know," The Commander tells the Vashoth. "I'll just sit here and wait till the fight is over."

Another companion appears from behind the rest of them, looking winded. "Well…I can watch her, I suppose. You'd be more help here in this situation."

And the Vashoth hands the Commander off to the Lieutenant. Who helps the Commander to sit down and clears a patch of snow so she doesn't freeze.

"We should probably…help," Varric observes.

I believe we're a bit dazed, the both of us. This was a bit…unexpected. And a bit much.

But he is right.

I step up next to Cassandra on her left side and the Lieutenant-Commander immediately compensates on the right.

A quick learner, with good instincts. Yes, I can see the potential there, indeed.

Varric moves to get an angle on the demons and suddenly…everything is much easier.

Where I falter, Cassandra covers me. Where Cassandra would normally get a claw in the back or the side, I and the Lieutenant-Commander block for her.

And all through the fight, the Vashoth very masterfully lays paralyzing runes and conserves her energy, should she need it to call upon the dead.

We do not pay attention to what is happening behind us, because all the demons are here. Nonetheless I hear the Commander conversing with her Lieutenant in the background as we fight. Chattering about nothing, in a way that is actually quite alarming.

I know they told me that magic…intoxicates her. But I did not think it was so apt a description!

As we reach the end of the fight, she instructs her Lieutenant to take her closer to the Rift.

"They're almost done and I have to do something with this damn glow-stick stuck in my hand, come on."

I would caution her against getting too close but I am a bit busy at the moment.

Regardless they do not appear beside us until the last shade has dissolved into nothing.

Turning to help the Lieutenant heft her weight, as he seems…quite ill? I grasp her hand and pull it up and out toward the Rift. "Close it, quickly before more come through!"

She blinks owlishly at me as if not comprehending but then replies, "how…do I do that? Exactly?"

I have no idea how to answer her.

Turning her attention to the Rift, she steps out of our hold and inches closer and closer to it. "I wonder if…"

And to my shock and dismay, she reaches out to  _touch_  it. With her marked hand.

There is something like a snap in the air and suddenly-

Suddenly the Rift connects to the mark in her hand and begins to shrink almost as if the mark is a very small whirlpool sucking in everything around it.

It is…strange to watch.

When it is over, she turns around with a bright smile, "wasn't so bad."

But the Lieutenant collapses, clutching at his chest.

"Ren!?" she drops next to him as he gasps for air.

I'm rooted in place, but my magic reaches out and examines-

Ah.

"Let her go, Ren. I will fix it," I drop to one knee next to them both. "If you do not, it is likely the strain might kill you."

He takes as deep a breath as he is capable of and slowly sags in relief as his magic releases its grip on the Commander's body.

It would appear that he was attempting to suppress the injuries the mark had dealt to her body, but-

"Agh!" she shrieks and curls in on herself in pain and shock. "What-"

"Relax as much as you can," I speak in a low, soothing cadence. "I will attempt to repair the damage, but it will be difficult."

This one as well, much potential. He could not use magic to heal her so he simply sealed everything closed for as long as he possibly could, holding it all in place with sheer willpower. It slowly built up more and more magic in her system, but it was the better of two bad options.

The only alternative was to pour magic into her until her wounds healed enough to survive and…well. I am the only one who can do that, as I have a technique to remove the excess. But if he had done that…closing the rift may well have ripped her apart even worse.

And she is…terribly gored, as it is.

Her insides have very small cuts here and there. But many of them. Everywhere. It is all I can do to reach inside, seal them closed with a bit of fire and hope there will be time later to heal everything properly.

All the while she is clutching my arm where it is holding her up and making pained noises as though she is trying to be quiet but cannot. Her chest and stomach are relaxed, no matter what I do. But her arms and legs…

She is channeling her clenching into different parts of her body, so as not to disrupt my work.

Intoxicated, in pain and confused- and she-

"Is it over?" she asks in a very small voice once I have sealed the last of the worst injuries.

"No. But for now, that…should hold you together." I reply.

She sighs and collapses sideways into my body. I grasp her with both hands by the shoulders and stand, heaving her up onto her feet. "Can you walk?"

Her body weight sags into me as she shakes her head.

"I've got her," the Vashoth reaches for me to pass her over.

As much as she should be fatigued, she seems to heft the Commander in her arms quite easily.

"Gotta move fast before the next one," she says, turning to the Seeker. "She might really die before we make it to the Breach."

The Seeker sighs and nods.

I stand and follow as they continue walking up the path, and Varric falls in line next to me.

"So…" he says. "Is she going to survive this?"

"I don't know," I reply.

He sighs, sorrowful and serious. "Damn."


	48. Shivanas POV

"Can't believe we got stuck with hunting while everyone else defends the camp," one of the men with me mutters.

A woman answers him. "Are you joking? Packed in tight like a can of sardines or free to move through the forest where there's boundless room? I'd say the choice is clear."

"They're expanding as fast as they can," I say while crouching down to take notice of some tracks. "I think there are Druffalos around here somewhere. Must've lost them when the attacks started happening. We find them, we can get milk for the camp. Maybe slaughter one for meat if we get desperate."

"Why are you still here, if you don't mind my asking," the woman asks. "You're Dalish aren't you? Couldn't you just go home?"

"This Breach is a threat to my people as well as yours," I reply. Slinking along the path. Becoming quieter as I go. "And I cannot return without Miles…he is part of the Clan, now."

"Right, the Lieutenant-Commander," another man remarks. "How's that work, anyhow? How do you know where someone's loyalties lie when they've got more than one?"

"I was assured that the Commander would prefer-" I cut off and make a silencing motion.

We've found the Druffalos.

They're conveniently hiding out in a rocky clearing where we're able to wrap some ropes around tree trunks and jutting rocks to sort of box them in. Can't leave them here, or the Demons will get them, but…for the hour it takes to get back to camp, report their position, take a party out to get them and bring them back to a pen that will have been at least halfway built before we get back…

It will hopefully hold.

"I think this is enough for today. We shouldn't overtax ourselves when we're low on food. There are six Druffalo in that clearing," I say. "Slaughtering one for its meat and hide, using the rest for their milk- we'll be providing a lot of nutrition for the camp just getting them all back in one piece. You, and you-" I point to two of the more experienced hunters. "Stay here and try to defend the Druffalo. Demons might not even be interested in them, I don't know- but if they are, do what you can. The rest of you, with me."

There's only three others, the man and woman that almost constantly argue, bicker or talk about something- and a man who mostly keeps to himself. He and I understand each other in a single glance when the other two are going on and on- please. Please make it  _stop_  we telegraph with a single look.

It's nothing like the way Miles and I seem to… _work_  together, it's just…nice to know there's someone else in the group who hates groups.

Thinking about Miles is a good way to get distracted, I should stop doing that when I've got things to do.

…it's just so  _strange_. We just met a few weeks ago. But as soon as we met, it was like something reached out from within and snapped into place. I don't know what to call it.

I can tell he wants it to be…at the very least, something physical. I don't know if he feels for me. He seems to, at least…as a person. But as a partner? There's no way to tell this early in.

We're…getting closer all the time, though. I feel like it's all going too fast, but also that it bothers me that it doesn't bother me that we're going too fast.

The Keeper says it only means he belongs in the clan, that we have a good rapport and that I should take the friendship and camaraderie he offers. That it will make me feel less alone when out amongst the wolves in human society.

But I was a bit embarrassed to tell the Keeper that it felt like something within me was connected to him. It makes no sense. We have no stories of mystical bonds or love at first sight or…whatever this is. No stories of people just coming together and  _working_  like they were always meant to be.

"Hey, Shiv do you-" one of the humans addresses me.

"Shivanas," I snap. "My  _name_  is Shivanas."

"And  _my_  name's Beauregard, but I usually don't complain when people wanna call me  _Beau_." He says, huffy and offended at my sharpness.

" _Beau_  is still a name. A shiv is an object. And my name is  _Elvhen_ , it cannot be shortened this way without sounding ridiculous like nonsense." I reply. "It is not that hard to pronounce three syllables, I know you can do it, so I'm not replying when you call me by an epithet that is not my name."

"You let the Justicar Commander call you that," another interjects.

I sigh loudly and tromp ahead. "The  _Commander_  saved my life once, I feel she's earned a bit of familiarity. Calling me by a ridiculous nonsense name is a  _privilege_ , not a right. You don't get to do it just because she does."

There is also some strange kind of resonance with that woman that I can't explain. I'm not attracted to her, don't trust her, don't know her…and yet it's like I'm a lute with easily plucked strings always producing a different note.

For Miles it's a low-pitched, thrumming note that's reminiscent of a love song or an ode to passionate lovers.

With her? I can't even tell…it feels like the plucky little note that wants to stand on its own but can't.

…I have no idea what that means.

For some reason, I feel comfortable with her. It's not only that she saved my life, or showed so much compassion and reason- it isn't that I trust her. Something about her just beckons you closer, like the glow of a fire almost swallowed by a snowstorm.

I don't trust  _that_  either. But for now, I will let it be. My instincts have never failed me before. Even Vellathas' death could have been avoided if she'd listened when I told her I could feel other people moving around nearby.

"I think it's a fine name," the one who also doesn't like groups says. "As is Beauregard. But we call you Beau because you prefer it, not because it's easier."

Beau makes a noncommittal noise that doesn't reassure me in the slightest, but he seems to be backing down from that argument, so…

I glance aside at my new ally and dip my head in a respectful nod, just once.

He returns the gesture.


	49. Nik POV, Solas POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I'm thinking I might take a break for a few weeks. Build up a backlog, take it easy for a bit and then come back when I'm ready. Won't be more than a few, maybe a month, I dunno. But I think I need to rest, relax and recharge my batteries.
> 
> I know you guys'll understand, so thanks in advance for being so patient! I hope to be back soon.

Life is pretty good right now.

Cassandra pins the Templar to the wall very calmly. "Say again?"

"My -my apologies," he stutters. "Lady Seeker, I hadn't realized-"

"That I was here to see your reprehensible behavior?" she asks in a dangerous tone. "We are low on everything and you would seek to threaten and bribe one of our very few precious resources into your own hands rather than share it with your brethren?"

"I-I, of course! But we get so little, Lady Seeker, it's not enough!" he exclaims.

"It is enough because it is keeping you alive and on your feet," she growls. "If you cannot go without even a small dose of Lyrium and stay the course, how am I to trust you?"

Sigh. Well, it was great while it lasted.

"Cassandra, put him down. We got more important shit to do." I remind her.

She throws me a very nasty sideways look but she drops him obligingly and he runs off.

"Also everything about him is kind of your fault," I say once he's gone. "Wouldn't be jonesing for Lyrium if the Chantry didn't need to get the Templars hooked in order to control them. And the Chantry wouldn't be able to do that kind of shit if the Seekers did their jobs."

"I  _beg_  your pardon?" she rounds on me. "The Seekers of Truth-"

"Are supposed to seek Truth, yeah. I got that part," I interrupt. "They're also supposed to watch the highest level of Templar and Mage ranks to ferret out corruption and foster a healthy system. They didn't. Ergo," I gesture around the camp where we see both Templars and Mages running around doing errands. "Your fault. Oh, the general 'you', in this case. Whether you had any personal part in doing this, you're still a Seeker. Their failures and corruption are yours, too."

"Cassandra," a very monotone but also somehow frail voice interrupts us.

It's that Tranquil that was carrying around the Lyrium for the mages to keep healing- the Templar was hassling her.

She looks so familiar. Blonde hair, lavender eyes…Elven…

No. No mcfreakin' way.

"Avexis," Cassandra softens. It's a hell of a thing to watch. "Are you alright?"

"He did not injure me," she replies, flatly. "Thank you for your assistance. I must get these potions to the healers."

And then she turns around and walks off with the potions in her little basket, heading toward the healer's area.

She walks past the little group that was standing with us when Cassandra nyoom'd over to beat up the Templar a bit so I can see their reactions.

Solas doesn't seem to realize anyone is watching him, so that weirdly sorrowful-but-angry look on his face is displayed for the world to see for all of two seconds before he schools his face back into pleasantly neutral lines.

Miles stares at the woman and then after her, like he's watching something dangerous or maybe keeping an eye on a child toddling too close to something sharp. I can't really make sense of it.

Arisala's only reaction is to grip her staff tighter. Ren watches the whole scene with a blank expression but stormy eyes.

"That was the girl who talks to dragons, wasn't it?" I ask. Watching her go.

Cassandra steps up next to me as she does the same. "Yes. How do you know about that?"

"Sources," I say again. "This is what I'm talking about though, do you see it? This girl in any other system might've been able to foster that skill- tame dragons so we could coexist with them, or something. But in this one, she was tranquilized, for a talent that…" I shake my head. "I mean oh my god, speaking to  _dragons_ , what I wouldn't give for a chance to  _save_  a dragon instead of having to kill them."

"Avexis  _asked_  to be Tranquil," Cassandra huffs. "You know nothing."

"Mages can't consent to shit in this system you created," I snap. "Whether it's what she thinks she wanted or not, we'll never know because most mages see Tranquilization as a saving grace. To 'cure' their 'affliction' of magic. Magic isn't a disease. It's a natural force in the universe and trying to control it by ripping it out or shoving it down is  _unhealthy_."

I turn and stare up into Cassandra's very unhappy face. "If you tell a child all their life that their blonde hair is the cause of all their misfortune and one day they hack it all off, it's not because they don't want blonde hair. It's because they think no one else wants them to have blonde hair and they think that's why bad things happen to them. Which is entirely different, I assure you."

And then I turn on my heel and start marching through the camp.

Solas, did something. I dunno what, but he took all the excess magic from my body? It stopped fucking with my head enough that I can walk now. It's excruciating, but I like being able to walk under my own power- seeing as I might actually be going to my death and all.

He healed me as much as was possible, but it still hurts like a son of a bitch.

"Ren! Head after Avexis and help out in the healing area. If we need you, I'll send somebody. I think you'll be more helpful there, though." I instruct.

He nods his head once and takes off after the willowy elf in the direction she was heading.

"And keep an eye on her, if you wouldn't mind!" I call after him.

He waves his hand up, to signal he heard me.

And now…on to Roderick, I guess.

"And just what do you mean by 'coexisting' with Dragons?" Cassandra demands while stomping after me.

"Coexisting. To live in peace and harmony with," I recite monotonously. "To find some common ground and build a foundation of peace, etcetera."

"Dragons cannot be reasoned with, they are a force of nature!" Cassandra says. "That is like asking a monsoon to please go back to the ocean."

"Avexis could talk to them," I reiterate. "Therefore there is some way to communicate, therefore there is a way to coexist. And as for natural disasters- we can get around those too with enough preparation and warning time. Being angry at a tornado will do you no good. You have to learn what it does, why it does it and then work around it."

Cassandra makes a noise. Not the 'ugh' noise, but still similarly disagreeable.

"That's a lovely sentiment and all, Commander…" Miles interjects. "But seeing as Dragons seemed to like wiping out whole villages when they were at their peak in numbers, maybe keepin' the population down and away from populated centers  _is_  the only way to coexist."

"Dragons wiped out villages because they're predators who claim territory and then Humans go stomping into said territory. But if we had a symbiotic relationship, that wouldn't be a problem. Hell, Haven used to have a village that worshiped a dragon. It didn't eat or destroy  _them_."

"How did you know about that!?" Cassandra stops in front of me and forces me to stop with her. "That is  _not_  common knowledge!"

"No, but there were people at the time who heard about it who were willing to part with the information," I intone. "I've got eclectic interests, Cassandra. I researched a whole bunch of shit nobody else thought was important. It's not impressive I know things you just had to ask the right people about."

"No one was supposed to know about that besides the Hero of Ferelden, her companions and the bannorn! The Divine was told in the strictest of confidence!" She insists.

I sigh. "Do you recall perhaps that the Hero of Ferelden had a rather strange bunch of companions, none of whom really owed any allegiance to Ferelden or the Bannorn besides the King, their healer and Leliana?"

"Who told, then?" she asks, demanding and irate. "That is supposed to be  _privileged_  information!"

"You really think I'm gonna tell you?" I reply. "One of the ways you stop getting information from anonymous and known sources alike is if you start telling everyone where you got it. Plus, you're forgetting all those people who know have servants who are all capable of overhearing conversations during dinners they're catering."

Cassandra grinds her teeth, I can see the muscle popping in her jaw.

"I'd be careful were I you, Seeker," Arisala speaks with a quiet cadence. "There is still one Justicar and two other people dedicated to keeping her unharmed in this group, albeit likely for entirely different reasons."

"Oh don't worry about that," I flick my wrist and walk around Cassandra. "If she were the type to hit people for being disagreeable, she likely wouldn't be in her position as one of the hands of the divine. You've gotta have  _some_  self control, I'd imagine."

She turns around and stomps after me. "So you admit you're being disagreeable?"

"I admit that's what it would look like to you," I reply.

This time she  _does_  make the disgusted noise.

 

* * *

 

Solas POV

Every moment spent with this woman is more baffling than the last. She speaks of things most other Fereldens consider blasphemy but does so with a disaffected bearing and matter-of-fact tone.

I find myself more often than not fighting the urge to  _gape_  when she opens her mouth or moves to take action in a situation which most others would not impose themselves.

"Hey, hey you, yeah-" she calls out to one of the servants and waves them over. "You're weaving on your feet, take a fuckin' break and I don't care if the Maker himself calls you lazy and tells you to get up, you tell them Seeker Cassandra and the Justicar Commander don't want people keeling over because that's no fucking help right now, alright? And tell all the other Servants and mages too."

Turning to the Seeker she harrumphs, "don't look at me like that. Them dying from overexertion helps how?"

The Seeker rolls her eyes and shrugs the moment off but that in itself is quite an accomplishment. Seeker Cassandra is rarely talked into anything, even by her usually ever-present mage companion. He usually has to harangue her for hours…

The Commander speaks in this very authoritative, nearly bossy tone- but it is best that way. After all, it's very difficult to argue that someone should go against the word of someone who commands such presence.

The bossier she is and the more people see her being bossy, the easier it will be for the people she's helping to use her as a shield against anyone who might disagree.

But is she aware of this? Is this purposeful or a by-product of her natural personality?

She wields her power like she is acutely aware of it and in ways that indicate profound thought before action is taken. But I have not met anyone like this who did not belong to some oppressed group in Thedas. She is human. Not a mage.

She is even well-spoken when she chooses to be and is therefore educated. And according to the standards of modern Fereldens, she may or may not be a great beauty.

I'm uncertain because beauty standards tend to…include things. Cosmetics, clothing, the way one stands and walks…

She is the most perfect example of a person who should never have to worry about oppression or judgment from anyone and yet…

Perhaps I'm missing something. There is some piece of the puzzle I've not yet unlocked.

That is exciting. Regardless of the guilt I feel for putting her through all this pain and her eventual death…she is fascinating and I am enjoying watching her, learning about her, predicting her movements.

I cannot, and that is…I would not say 'fun' but it has been a while since someone could surprise me in every possible way.

Ah, we are approaching the Nightingale on the bridge. She is arguing with that Chancellor from the Chantry who barged into the dungeons and demanded the Commander be executed.

I had to paralyze him and send someone for the Seeker. I wouldn't have put it past that zealot to attempt murdering her himself and dooming us all to oblivion.

"I refuse to be party to this!" I can hear him exclaiming to the Nightingale. "She should be  _executed_ , she should be drawn-and-quartered, she should-"

"Aw shucks, I didn't know I was so popular," the Commander drawls as we approach their disagreement. "Miles why didn't you tell me I had a fan club?"

"Figured it'd go to your head," he replies, not missing a single beat.

"You!" the Chancellor takes notice of us.

Seeker Cassandra steps out to meet him as he advances on us and they squabble for a few moments as the Commander sighs and makes a show of being impatient.

I believe Miles is trying very valiantly not to join in on her bad behavior. Strange. He seems to follow her lead in nearly everything. It is…nice that he has things that are his own.

A bit disappointing those things do not involve making fun of pompous Chantry officials, but…

"It isn't the safest route, and we are trying to keep her alive," Lady Nightingale is now involved in the discussion and the Chancellor has subsided into silence, though he is so flushed I think it because he is too angry to speak.

"You know what?" the Commander speaks as they argue over our intended route. "I've got a better idea. And by 'better' I mean, let's do both."

"What are you talking about?" the Seeker rounds on her. "We cannot do both, that is why we are-"

"I see," the Nightingale taps a finger delicately against her bottom lip, elbow of that hand held elegantly in the other. "A distraction?"

"More a distract and retreat," the Commander replies. "We don't know what's waiting for us, or whether it knows where we're going- hell for all we know, rifts can think and send out more demons on command."

Unlikely, but then again…everything happening now is rather unlikely on the whole.

"Until we know there's not an intelligence behind this, we should behave as though there is. Nothing to lose," she shrugs. "Miles, can you and Arisala help the Commander charge in, and then lead the Demons backwards? Or would you rather help with the evacuation?"

"We aren't going with you?" Miles asks.

"You can go wherever you want, but this is where I think you'll be needed," She replies.

"The Commander's right," Arisala breaks her silence for the first time since we entered camp. "I can defend on the front lines by using stunning magic to slow the waves down. You can defend from further back, and help people get out."

"While you're doing that- Cassandra, Solas, Varric and I can all take the mountain path," she says. "With…all the ladders…" her eyes go faraway as if recalling something and she stiffens in response.

"How do you know of the mountain path and how you get to it?" the Nightingale asks.

The Commander quirks an eyebrow at her. "I played servant for  _days_ , you really think I never overheard anything about the mountain path?"

The Nightingale narrows her eyes but the Commander responds by raising her brows and half-lidding hers. A slip of a smile curving her lips.

Ahh, this will be a problem. I have run into many in Thedas who remind me of myself, in some small way, but this woman…

Is so entirely both like and unlike me…it's rather unsettling.

I wouldn't concern myself with running about and tending to the common members of my organization if I had someone to delegate that to. Not that the job was ever beneath me, or is now, but…how is it she has not worked herself into an early grave? I concern myself with only the most important of work and I am still nearly exhausted by the time I am finished. I cannot imagine taking on extra work for no other reason but that I can.

But I  _want_  to.

I suppose we shall see if she manages to handle it, and if she does…perhaps there is something to learn from her.

If I had my way, I would never stop learning.

"Oh!" the Chancellor bursts. "You cannot be serious! You're going to allow her to make your plans now?"

Varric coughs on a chuckle. "They're good plans. I'd like to see you do better."

"I was not speaking to  _you_ ," the Chancellor replies in a very different tone. Flicking his wrist as if to dismiss Varric entirely.

"Talk to one o' my companions like that again and you'll be wearing your teeth on the back o' your head," the Commander says.

But quietly. With feeling. Flat eyes and a determined cant to her head. It isn't an angry declaration.

It is a promise.

Wait. She was slurring her words a bit-

"AHHHHH!" she shrieks and goes down on one knee. Gritting her teeth as the mark erupts again.

I rush forward and grasp her wrist, shoving the power back in on itself and containing the damage as best I can.

We need to move more quickly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone is confused about why Nik seemed happy and then mad at Cassandra for hassling the Templar, it was because at first, Cassandra seemed to be doing her job and protecting mages from Templars-- but then she realized she was just hassling an addict for withdrawing and being unable to handle it and got very disappointed very fast.

**Author's Note:**

> Be sure to comment or kudos!
> 
> Comments keep me motivated so any amount of words will do. And if you feel too self conscious, you can just communicate in emojis. I had a friend once, we'd have whole conversations in emoji, lmao.


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